


Fortune's Hostage

by Cougars_catnip



Series: The Seventh [1]
Category: Magnificent Seven, Shadowrun
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Science fiction / fantasy, Shadowrun - Freeform, action adventure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-17
Updated: 2012-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-31 08:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cougars_catnip/pseuds/Cougars_catnip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary's son Billy is kidnapped and she and Judge Orrin Travis hires a team of seven Shadowrunners to get him back. A/U: Shadowrun</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Those who love give a hostage to fortune." ~ Street Proverb

Fortune's Hostage

The Year is 2058

Magic has returned to the earth. The ancient races of Elves, Dwarfs, Orks and Trolls have re-emerged. Technology has also changed, allowing man to augment his body with artificial enhancements called cyberware. These enhancements can make one faster, stronger and smarter than before.

Mega-Corporations have become nations unto themselves while former national powers have reformed. The United States became the United Canadian-American States after the loss of much of the West to the Native American Nations and the South to the Confederate American States and Aztlan. 

Technology and Magic co-exist in this Awakened World where awesome powers are kept in balance by those who run in the shadow world, those known as Shadowrunners.

The street samurai; with his smartguns and impossibly fast reflexes, the decker; who can plug his own brain into the worldwide computer network, slicing through computer security with programs as elegant and deadly as a stiletto, the rigger; who links his mind to his vehicle and takes hairpin turns at fantastic speeds, his machines an extension of his very body, Mages and Shamans; manipulate mana to bend the Awakened world and the astral plane to their will.

These Shadowrunners don't just live in the shadows- they thrive there... for now.

Prologue:

"Those who love give a hostage to fortune." ~ Street Proverb ~

Margaret Anne Sandoval stared with feral hunger at the small boy playing on the swings. "That one," she indicated the child. "Bring that one to me." She handed a cred stick to the unkempt man who leaned against her Westwind.

He hocked and spat. "Where do ya want 'em delivered? And what do ya what us to do with the babysitter?"

"There is a place on Paso Del Norte called the Four Corners Motel. Room 215. Meet me there and do not hurt him! As for the nanny, I don't really care what you do with her," she stated coldly. She started the car and pulled away leaving the man to carry out her instructions.

Spikes spat again and sneered at the departing woman. "Fragging slitch!" He looked down at the cred stick; at least her money was good. The banger crossed the street and joined the rest of his gang. They conferred for a couple of minutes then spread out and approached the park like a pack of rabid dogs.

M7M7M7

Matches kept a tight hold on the brat as he banged on the motel door. His shin ached where the kid had kicked him, and the scratches the nanny had left on his face stung like fire. He had taught the slitch a lesson though, and her death had been slow and painful. His groin tightened as he thought about her last moments, the light fading from her eyes as his hands tightened around her throat with each thrust.

Margaret paced back and forth in the small motel room, a worn picture clutched in her hand. "You were mine," she muttered. "She stole you from me." A slender finger tenderly brushed the image's cheek. "We were meant for each other and she ruined it. He should have been our child, Stephen. Yours and mine, and soon he will be. I promise." A banging at the door pulled her from her reverie. She threw it open and stared at the child hungrily. He stood watching her with a tear-streaked face, a split lip and a black eye. Her eyes grew wide. "Did I not make myself clear that he was to be unharmed?" she demanded.

Matches sneered. "Whatever. You got him now and he ain't hurt bad. Take the brat and shut the fuck up before I give you what I gave his nanny." He threw the boy at her and turned to leave.

Margaret shrieked with fury and drew her Predator. She aimed at the banger's retreating back and pulled the trigger.

Chapter One:

"It is not about what you know, but who you know."~ Street Proverb

Mary Travis entered the opulent library, her footsteps silent on the thick pile carpet. "I hope this will suffice, sir." She approached the heavy mahogany desk, and handed her father-in-law a thick file.

The honorable Judge Orrin W. Travis gestured for her to take a seat, and opened the file.

She shook her head, declining the seat. "You do realize sir, that information on these men was sketchy at best. It's as if someone has tried to erase them completely."

He glanced up at her and raised an eyebrow at the outrage in her voice. "Well, my dear, they are Shadowrunners. Did you expect a resume with character references?"

"I am just not sure that this is the best way to go about this," she paused in her pacing. "These men are…"

"Criminals?" he interrupted.

"Exactly!" she shot back. She spun around to face him. "I don't understand how you can even consider this Orrin. You're a judge for God's sake, you know what men like this are like! We should tell Lonestar that Billy was with Elizabeth!"

"Lonestar?" He snorted sardonically. "Lonestar couldn't find their collective asses with both hands, a G.P.S., and a detailed instruction manual!" He sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. "Mary, the one who took Billy was ruthless. Lonestar can handle the investigation into Elizabeth's murder, but trust me on this, if we are going to have any hope of getting him back we need to hire men equal to the task."

She opened her mouth to resume the argument but stopped at the look of conviction in his eyes. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. "Fine! From what little I could dig up, this team is the best there is." She frowned skeptically. "If we end up hiring them I just hope to God they live up to their reputation!"

"Tell me what you've found out about them," he ordered.

Mary drew a deep breath and seated herself in the chair. She paused for a moment to gather her composure and get her battered emotions under control. Billy needed her to be calm, not arguing with his grandfather. "Yes, sir." She leaned forward and indicated a holo of a black-clad street samurai.

His blond hair was spiked on top and just brushed his collar in the back, but it was his eyes that caught the judge's attention. There was something about that steely-eyed gaze that commanded trust, which let one know this was a man who could be counted on.

"That is the team leader," Mary continued. "He goes by the name Lobo. Human street samurai, former UCAS Army Delta Force. He's augmented, of course, wired reflexes and smart gun link. Possible data jack but I'm not sure about that. He has run the Seventh for five years," she paused and took a sip of her drink. "The team sniper is an elf named Falcon. No augmentation. Rumor says he's a physical adept. He's from Aztlan, near San Antonio." The sniper's holo showed a man with long golden-brown hair, the delicately pointed ears of an elf, and piercing blue eyes. "They have two spell slingers. The first: an elven fox shaman by the name of Ace. He's from the CAS, Atlanta or maybe New Orleans. Nobody seemed to know for sure other than the fact he's from the Deep South. The other is a dwarven hermetic mage named Prophet, from the California Free State, San Francisco to be exact." She tapped the holos of each in succession. The first an elf, auburn haired and green eyed, had dimples and with a wry smile. The second, a powerfully built dwarf with ice blue eyes and salt-and-pepper hair. She frowned suddenly. "Where did they get these names? Did their parents hate them or something?"

Orrin snorted. "They're street names, Mary. I'm sure the names on their birth certificates are normal enough. But go on."

"Team decker is a human named Ferret, he's from the Boston sprawl. "He has the typical augmentation you would expect from a decker, plus a few extras: he has a smart gun link and wired reflexes, and he's also a rigger." She passed Orrin the picture of a very young looking man with long, dark brown hair and hazel eyes. A single silver jack shone on his temple, and another was set just behind his right ear. "Why two data jacks?" she wondered.

He shook his head. "One data jack, one rigger jack, I would assume. Any more?"

Mary nodded. "Yes, sir. They also have a combat medic who goes by the name of Duck Tape, of all things, although my contact said they call him DT; and another street samurai named Stud, both of whom were in the Deltas with Lobo. These two are heavily augmented - smart gun links, wired reflexes, data jacks, enhanced hearing and sight, the works." She laid the rest of the holos down on the desk. DT, the medic, was a tall black man with a tattoo on his forearm of a winged staff entwined by snakes. Superimposed over the bottom of the staff was the number seven. The other samurai was also tall and had dark blue eyes, dark hair and a mustache, and a mischievous grin. The glint in his eyes gave Mary the feeling that this man would be trouble with a capital 'T'. "Stud grew up here in Denver, in a brothel of all places. I'm sorry, but I wasn't able to find out where DT and Lobo are from."

Orrin didn't answer. He stared at the holos long enough for Mary to start fidgeting in her seat. Reputation or not she was just not ready to entrust the life of her son to these men. She fought another panic attack down by sheer force of will, forcing herself to breathe deeply. Whatever happened, deep down she trusted the judge. Maybe he was right and this was the only option left to them. She knew he loved Billy as much as she did and would not take chances with her son's life. She sighed, which drew the judge's attention back from wherever he had withdrawn to. "Can you get in touch with Lobo?" he asked.

She nodded once, her expression leery. "I can put a call in to a fixer that they use," she said slowly.

The judge gazed down at the blond man's holo, searching those eyes. Making a decision he prayed would pay off, he took a deep breath and looked back up at her. "Do it."


	2. "Watch your back. Shoot straight. Conserve ammo. And never, ever, cut a deal with a dragon." ~ Street Proverb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> To assense – to scan a person, place, or item with magical senses for traces of magic, cyberware, mood and/ or magical contamination such as is left by violence... aka. - astral perception.
> 
> Lonestar Security ~ This mega corporation has taken over the job of local police departments.
> 
> ICE- Intrusion Counter Measures – programs designed to attack and/ or trace intruding deckers. Black ICE- programs that set up lethal feedback in a decker's brain- designed to kill.
> 
> Johnson – generic name for a client seeking to hire a shadowrunner.

Ch. 2

"Watch your back. Shoot straight. Conserve ammo. And never, ever, cut a deal with a dragon." ~ Street Proverb

Ezra shuffled a deck of cards, and with a roguish grin dealt them out to his teammates. "Gentlemen," he drawled. "This game is called Read 'Em and Weep."

J.D. sighed. "I'm already weeping," he said with disgust.

Vin laughed. "You done cleaned me out, Ezra," he checked his cards... trash. "That's it for me. I fold." He tossed back a shot of whiskey and stood up. He moved to the other side of the room and took a seat at the table where their Captain sat staring pensively into space. "So, what's got you so all-fired quiet tonight?"

Chris took a sip of his coffee before answering. "Inez called. We have a job offer."

"But?"

"But…" He paused, and then said flatly. "I don't know Vin, I just have a bad feeling about this one."

Vin mulled that over for a minute. "We passin' on the job?"

Chris set his cup down. "Not sure yet. Get everyone together and let's go see what Inez has to say."

"You got it, Lobo." He pushed back his chair and rose smoothly to his feet. "Let's go boys," he called.

The poker game broke up with a bit of good-natured grumbling.

The group headed down the hall, filed into the conference room, and took their seats at the table. Chris triggered the remote that brought up the vid screen and typed in a number.

Their fixer, Inez Rocillos, appeared on the screen. The pretty Latina smiled at the assembled men. "Hola, gentlemen," she said. "I have a job offer for you. The client is in need of an extraction. He is willing to meet with you today to give you the specifics. He is offering 45,000 nuyen for the retrieval. Triple that if it can be done before any serious harm comes to the target."

Chris thought a moment, and then nodded. "The Saloon on Twelfth Street at two o'clock."

"Done," Inez flashed another grin at the seven before the screen went dark. End Trans.

M7M7M7

The Saloon was a typical small neighborhood bar situated on the edge of the UCAS and CAS sectors. Chris dismounted from his Harley Scorpion, parking the big bike next to Vin's vintage Indian in such a way as to ensure an easy retreat if needed. He glanced over at his partner. The sniper nodded to him, and they headed into the bar. Chris noticed Ezra's antique candy-apple red Ferrari F430 Spider parked in the back of the lot. He and Josiah must have beaten them here by a few minutes. They entered the bar and sure enough the two spell slingers sat at a table in the back. A faint hum let Chris know that one of them, probably Ezra, the more paranoid of the two, had already engaged the white noise generator set into the wall behind the table. Chris grinned; his teammate left nothing to chance as he had so often pointed out. He heard Buck and JD's banter over the comlink as they came through the door. Nathan brought up the rear, and went straight to the bar. They scattered around the room at different tables, then settled in to wait for their contact.

"Ok," Chris subvocalized over the team comlink, "Everybody stay frosty and keep an eye out. Ace, when Johnson gets here I want you to assense him; and Ferret, I want you to see if you can ID him. The rest of you watch for any hitters he may bring." He sat back and relaxed as his team acknowledged his orders.

Buck smiled at the waitress who came to take their order, and by the time she had brought a pitcher of beer to his and JD's table he had gotten her telecom number and the promise of a date. Chris, watching surreptitiously from across the room, shook his head; Stud certainly lived up to his street name. That his antics also served to keep the waitress's attention off his partner, who had settled into the shadows in the corner, didn't bear mentioning.

JD set up his deck, and plugged the cable into his data jack. He knew Buck would watch over his meat while his consciousness was in the Matrix. With a few taps of the keyboard, he launched himself into the grid. His icon- an anthropomorphized ferret wearing a bowler hat, a long brown armored duster, and carrying twin pearl-handled pistols- tapped into the security cameras of the Saloon. From here he could monitor the whole room and hopefully spot any trouble before it broke out.

Nathan leaned against the bar, for all intents and purposes watching the game on the vid screen, but Chris knew his attention was actually on the room, scanning for trouble.

A small disturbance at the front door caught Chris's attention. He watched as an older man and a beautiful woman entered the bar and looked around. The woman stood out like a peacock among crows. Her shining blonde hair, pale green eyes and impeccable attire set her apart from the other… ladies… in the bar, and she was looking straight at him. The two made their way through the crowd to his table. "Here we go," Chris said.

"Lobo?" Her voice was low and uncertain. Her eyes flicked over to Vin then back to Chris.

Chris nodded. "Have a seat, Mr. and Ms. Johnson." He switched on the white noise generator set into the table.

The blonde looked confused. "My name isn't John…." She trailed off as the man with her squeezed her elbow.

'Mr. Johnson' pulled a chair out for her, seating her with old-fashioned courtesy, then sat down next to her and pulled out a small holo of a child. "Let's get down to business shall we? Your fixer has told you the fee I am willing to pay?" He waited for Chris's nod, then continued. "This is Billy. He was taken and we want you to bring him back."

Chris took the holo, glanced at it, and passed it to Vin. "What happened?"

"He was at a small park near my home with Elizabeth and someone took him," the woman snapped.

Chris stared at her for a moment, then silently dismissed her and turned his attention back to the man.

Vin hid a smirk as she bristled at the implied insult. "This one isn't used to being ignored," he subvocalised to his teammates.

"She seems to be quite uncomfortable in this atmosphere, as well," Ezra replied over the comlink. He paused for a moment while he assessed their auras. "Lobo, neither of them are magically active nor do they have any cyberware. Both of them are quite agitated and the woman is bordering on panic."

"Acknowledged."

JD spoke up, his voice the curious monotone it took on when he was jacked in. "Lobo. The man is Federal Judge Orrin Travis. No ID yet on the woman." 

Chris felt a chill run down his spine, and all his senses went on full alert. A federal judge wasn't your typical Johnson, and his presence boded disaster for the team.

"You think this might be a trap?" Buck asked. He searched the room with his eyes, but other than the looks of admiration and in some cases outright lascivious stares directed at the woman, he couldn't find anyone that was paying an inordinate amount of attention to any of them. "No sign of hitters."

"I got an ID on the woman. She's Mary Travis, the judge's daughter-in-law and a reporter with the Denver Clarion," JD said.

"Reporter? Damn. Lobo, I got a bad feeling about this."

"Ah shit, isn't Travis the one they call the hanging judge? The man has a reputation for integrity. What the hell is he doing hiring runners?" Nathan asked.

Chris grimaced at the chatter in his ear. "If you'll all just shut up I'm trying to find out," he subvocalised. "Who's Elizabeth?" he asked out loud.

The judge frowned. "Elizabeth Barrett. She was Billy's nanny and bodyguard. She's dead- raped and strangled. She did manage to get a piece of her attacker under her fingernails, but it will take time for a lab to process; more time than I think we have. Lonestar is investigating her murder, but they don't know that Billy was with her."

Chris cocked an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Let's just say I don't have much confidence in Lonestar's abilities with Billy's life on the line," he stated flatly.

Chris considered that, and then nodded. "Fair enough. How long has Billy been missing, and have you been contacted about a ransom?"

"He's been gone for three days, and no, they haven't contacted us," the woman whispered.

Chris exchanged a startled glance with Vin. "That's not good. They should have contacted you already. There's been nothing at all? No telecom call, no note?"

The judge shook his head. "Not a thing. Can you help us?"

Chris glanced over at Vin. He seems on the up and up. His second in command nodded, and over the comlink he heard his team give their acceptance.

"Lobo, tell him we will need a hair sample to do a detection ritual." Prophet cut in.

"Yeah, I think we can. We'll need a sample of Billy's hair, and some way to contact you."

"Of course. I will see to it that you get whatever you need." He pulled out his wallet, took out a business card, and wrote a number on the back. He handed it to Chris. "Use with discretion."

Chris nodded, and without even glancing at the card he replied. "Whatever you may think of us, Judge," he smiled as the judge's eyes widened. "We are professionals. Your identity is safe… Mr. Johnson."

Judge Travis acknowledged the hit. "Then we shall leave this matter in your capable hands."

Chris sat quietly toying with his drink, while the two rose to leave. As Ms. Travis walked away, he signaled the judge to wait a moment. "Mr. Johnson, next time you go to a meet you might want to leave her behind. She attracts too much attention."

The judge snorted. "You try telling her that. Maybe she will even listen to you."

M7M7M7

"Buck, you still friends with that Lonestar detective?" Chris asked.

"Jenny? Sure am," Buck grinned.

"Good, I want you to get a hold of her and see if she'll tell you anything about this murder, and make sure you get the name of the lead detective for JD," he tossed Buck a cred stick. "Take her out someplace nice this time," he smirked.

Buck grinned and headed out the door.

"JD, once Buck gets back to us with what he can find out, I want you to deck into Lonestar and see if you can get the case file on Elizabeth Barrett's murder. Nathan, you watch his meat."

JD snorted. "Hack Lonestar? Just like that, Chris? Do you have any idea what kind of ICE they have?"

Chris grinned. "If anyone can do it, you can."

JD stared at him for a moment, then shook his head and rolled his eyes. He gave Chris the one finger salute, and turned away. "Nathan, come on. We need to head over to the Purgatorio safe house for this. Last thing we want is Lonestar showing up here if I trigger a trace."

Chris smirked at the decker as he and Nathan left. "The rest of you go get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow."

M7M7M7

Buck sat back and smiled at his date. She had been pretty when they went to school together, but now she was absolutely stunning. Her red hair shimmered in the low light, and her slim figure was set off to perfection in a sapphire dress that matched her eyes. He took a deep breath, enjoying the subtle scent of her perfume.

"So, a lovely wine, a good meal, flowers. What do you want, Buck?" Detective Jennifer Shepherd cocked her head to one side and smiled at her date. She ran a finger lazily around the rim of her glass as she waited for his, what she was sure would be, entertaining reply.

"Now, darlin," he drawled. "Can't a man just take a beautiful woman out for dinner without wanting something?"

"Why, of course he can… darlin." She gently mocked. "You, however, want something. So cut the crap, Bucklin, and spill it."

Buck gave her a slow wicked grin. "But Jenny, you know if I cut to the chase now, we won't get to dessert." He let his eyes drift over her lithe form.

Jenny shivered at the promise in his dark blue eyes. "All right, keep your secrets for now. But Buck, I know you want something, and if you're a good boy," she smiled. "I may just be persuaded to give it to you."

M7M7M7

JD and Nathan pulled up to a nondescript building in Purgatorio, one of the worst districts in the Denver sprawl. JD sent a command through his rigger link, and a door opened revealing a large open bay. The two men pulled in and turned their bikes to face the street. They dismounted, closed up the garage, and headed deeper into the safe house to wait for Buck's call.

Once they finally got word from the ladies' man JD settled himself in his chair, plugged the cable into his jack, and powered up his deck. He ran a quick system check and updated all his programs, then he launched his consciousness into the Matrix and waited a moment for reality to stabilize. As always, the neon lights of cyberspace pulsed brilliantly and dazzled the eyes. Denver, home of the Nexus, the birthplace of the Matrix, sprawled out in front of him as far as the eye could see. He engaged his reality filter, and smiled as the modern icons faded and the Old West appeared before his eyes. Mounting his horse, he left the node and slipped into the data stream.

Nathan checked the security cameras and made sure the area around their safe house was clear. He glanced over at JD who was still except for his fingers dancing across the keyboard. If there was anything more boring than watching over a mage who had gone astral, it had to be watching over a decker in the Matrix- Nathan snorted - at least until the bullets started flying and then things got pretty damn exciting in a hurry. Hopefully this would not be one of those times. JD was good; really, really good at his job, but this was Lonestar and they had some of the blackest ICE out there. He turned away and busied himself getting medical supplies ready just in case JD ran into something nasty while he was in the Matrix.

Ferret walked along the boardwalk, nimbly dodging traffic. His whiskers quivered at the scent of dust in the air, and his ears twitched at the dull clomping of his boot heels on the wood of the walk and the merry jingling of his spurs. He stopped in front of the jail and considered it for a moment. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a star, which he fixed firmly to the lapel of his armored duster. Then he sauntered into the building as if he belonged there. He patiently waited his turn, then walked up to the desk and flashed his tin star at the deputy. He held his breath until with a nod the deputy opened the door and allowed him to enter. He was in a corridor lined with doors, each one with a name on it. Buck's friend had said that the detective assigned to the Barrett case was Derek Whitehorse so he walked quickly down the hall searching for right door. Halfway down and on the right he found it. He pulled out his lock pick and went to work, shielding his actions behind his long brown duster. A soft click and he was in. Cautiously he slipped inside the room and shut the door behind him, reengaging the lock before he walked over to an empty desk and opened the drawer. Inside, he sorted quickly though the files he found there until he saw the name. He made a copy of the file and then jacked out.

M7M7M7

JD sauntered into the briefing room and casually tossed a file on the table in front of Chris. Then he flopped down in his usual seat with a smirk.

Chris grinned at the smug decker, opened the file and began to read. Suddenly he sat up straight. "Damn, the autopsy says she was gang raped. That means we're dealing with multiple assailants. Lab results from the skin and blood under her nails IDed a gangbanger named Paul Vila. He turned up the next day over on Paso Del Norte at some hotel with a bad case of dead, so they're closing the case." Chris snorted in contempt. "Leave it to the Star to do a half- assed job."

Vin frowned. "What the hell would a bunch of bangers want with a kid if it isn't ransom of some kind?"

"That is indeed the question now, isn't it? Perhaps we can ask the miscreants when we make their acquaintance," Ezra said. "I don't suppose the good detective was kind enough to indulge the late Mr. Vila's affiliation?"

Chris, checked the report. "Actually, we do seem to have a little luck there. He was a member of the Deuces."

Vin smiled. "At least that gives us something to look into."

"Chris, has the judge sent over that hair sample yet?" asked Josiah.

"Yeah, Inez had it delivered this morning." Chris tossed a small package to the mage. "Will it be enough to get a fix on the kid?"

"It should be. Give me a few hours, and hopefully we'll have a location." Josiah answered.

M7M7M7

Josiah checked the hermetic circle once more to ensure there were no mistakes. "Ok, Buck, this is important: do not cross this line or disturb me. This is going to take time, so make yourself comfortable."

Buck nodded. "Is it gonna be dangerous for you?"

Josiah considered the question. "Well, there is always that possibility depending on where he is, but it shouldn't be anything I can't handle. After all, it is simply a detection spell." He stepped into the circle, careful not to mar the intricate design, and placed the sample of Billy's hair in an embossed silver bowl. He lit the candles around the circle, and then he sank to his knees and began to chant.

The ritual took almost three hours. The mage's face became drawn and sweaty, his hair plastered to his head, and through it all he continued chanting. At last there was a sudden flare of energy in the bowl, and the hair was consumed in green fire. Josiah slumped forward, his breath coming harsh and fast. Finally, he rose shakily to his feet and took a step toward Buck.

Buck leaped forward and caught Josiah as he staggered out of the circle. "Hang on, 'Siah, I got ya." He guided the mage to a couch and helped him sit.

Josiah slumped back into the couch, completely depleted. "I can't find him," he gasped.

"Here, eat this." Buck pressed a protein bar into the mage's hands.

Josiah looked at the bar with revulsion. The last thing he wanted to do was eat, but it was also the best thing for him. He took a tentative nibble, and then set the bar aside.

"Oh no you don't. Nathan told me all about this, how using yer mojo uses energy. 'Siah, you gotta replenish your energy. Now you gonna do this the easy way," he indicated the bar. "or do I go get Nathan, and let him hook yer ass up to an IV?"

Josiah grimaced at the threat, and picked up the bar. "Fine," he grumbled.

Buck watched him as he ate, and then handed him an energy drink to replenish his electrolytes.

Soon he was feeling better, although it would take a full night's sleep to be back to full power. "Damn spell drain is a bitch at my age."

Buck chuckled. "Hell, 'Siah, to hear Ezra tell it, drain is a bitch at any age."

Josiah snorted. "True. I just seem to feel it more now than when I was younger."

Buck nodded. "I can imagine. Now, you said you couldn't find the boy?"

Josiah frowned. "I couldn't find his aura. He just wasn't… there."

"Aw, damn! Do you think he's dead?"

Josiah shook his head. "No, not necessarily. He could be behind wards."

Buck considered that for a moment. "Chris is not gonna be happy."

"Yeah, well, nobody ever said Running was easy. Maybe Ezra will get lucky and find something at the park."

M7M7M7

Ezra sat in the van listening to the rain pounding on the roof. The small park was empty and listless under the deluge. The running water would normally make assessing the area more difficult, but an act of violence left its own imprint on an area, a disquieting feeling, a miasma of rage and terror. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. The park reeked of it. He glanced over at Chris. "Shall we get started?" he asked.

Chris cleared his throat. "Falcon and I are gonna take a walk while you do your thing."

Ezra nodded curtly. "It could take me awhile."

Chris nodded. "Take all the time you need."

M7M7M7

Chris and Vin walked down the sidewalk, shoulders hunched against the rain. It was a nice, quiet, middle-class area with modest homes and businesses. "Got any thoughts?" Chris asked.

Vin was quiet for a moment, scanning the area, and then he frowned. "Yeah. It doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't?"

"Lobo, look around you. What do you see? Or better still, what do you not see?"

Chris scrutinized the neighborhood. Security was a solid B at least; maybe even a low A depending on which end of the area you were in. It took him a minute, but finally it sunk in. "No signs of gang activity. No graffiti, no kids hanging around, no vandalism."

"Exactly. I doubt whoever did this, whether it was the Deuces or somebody else, was from this neighborhood. They came from outside, which means this was definitely not random."

"Damn."

Vin grinned. "Well, cowboy, that is one way to put it."

"Ok, let's get back to Ace, and get out of this rain."

M7M7M7

"No, no, no, not make me see. Not make me tell, Foxy man," the tiny spirit bobbed in agitation.

"Come, little one, I know it is distressful, but I need to know – in order to save the boy." Ezra soothed the watcher as best he could. The spirit strained against the chain of the shaman's will. "There will be a reward."

Abruptly the spirit stopped trying to escape. "Reward? What you give Foxy man, what, what, what?"

"A happy memory? Would that please you, little one?" He asked gently. He waited patiently while the spirit spun in place considering the offer.

"Ok, I tell, I tell. For memory. But is sad! Boy gone, taken by bad mens. Pretty lady hurted so bad, bad, bad. They hurts her, Foxy man. Sad, Sad, Sad. Boy try to help. Kick one bad mans hard. Bad mans hit boy, once, twice, three times hard; then throw boy down and then... then. Pretty lady screams and screams. Each bad mans takes turn. Steals sweetness and makes wicked! Nobody hears. Only me," the spirit continued dejectedly. "Then… pretty lady not scream. Bad mans steals her air and pretty lady gone. Sad, sad, sad. Bad mens throw boy in car and take to broken lady. Boy cry and cry and bad mans take him gone. Let me go, Foxy man, I tell, I tell."

"Broken lady?"

"Lady, broken lady, dreams. Tells bad mans that one, that one. Hers has black heart. Go there to sunset."

"One thing more then you may have your reward and go."

"One thing, one thing. What thing?"

"How many bad men were there?"

"Many, many, many. Maybe tens. Got twos and wicked hearts and broken dreams, Foxy man. They shoulds play, not kill. Bad, sad, mad. No tell more. Let me go, let me go."

"Thank you, Akela. Take your reward and you may go," Ezra brought to mind the happiest memory he could think of. He braced himself as the little spirit drank deep. Then with a caress that was like a child's kiss on his cheek, the spirit was gone.

M7M7M7

Chris and Vin found Ezra sitting in the van staring bleakly into space.

"Get anything?" Chris asked him.

"Yes."

Chris waited, but when nothing more was forthcoming he asked, "Would you care to share it with us, or have you developed a case of verbal impotency?"

"My dear friend, there are some things that even words fail to express fully, but when spoken in the vulgarest of terms tend to suggest one perform a pleasurable, yet physically impossible feat."

"What did he say?" Chris asked Vin.

"I think he just told you to fuck off." Vin answered with a grin.

"Indeed," Ezra gave them a wry smile. "Lobo, spirits often speak in metaphor. Kindly allow me to ponder on the information I have gained. I assure you that the answers you seek will be forthcoming"

Chris nodded. "Fair enough."

The three men rode back to the safe house silently, each engrossed in their own thoughts.

M7M7M7

Chris looked around the room at his teammates. "Ok, so let's get this all on the table. What do we know?" He nodded to Vin to go first.

Vin leaned against the wall casually. "We know the area Billy was taken from has decent security, and the gang isn't local. This suggests they were brought in on purpose to snatch the kid," he said.

Josiah spoke next, sitting forward with fingers steepled. "We know that we can't track the child from the astral."

"Which means?" Nathan asked.

"Which means either he's behind wards, or he's dead." Josiah said flatly.

"We'll go on the assumption that he's still alive until we have a body. His folks hired us to bring him back and that's what we're going to do, alive or dead," Chris stated. "Either way, we do this the old-fashioned way. Ok, so what else? Buck, what did that friend of yours tell you?"

"Jenny said that Derek Whitehorse is the lead detective on the Barrett case. He's a good man, but swamped with cases so he'll put a minimum of effort into it." Buck sat sprawled in his chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. "Which might not be all that bad since at least it keeps Star outta our hair."

"True. JD?"

JD indicated the file on the desk. "According to the case file, Elizabeth was gang raped. Whitehorse found out the ganger she scratched is named Paul Vila, and he runs with the Deuces. But they found him dead at the Four Corners motel on Paso Del Norte . Maybe that was the drop-off for the kid?"

"That is quite likely, given what the spirit I spoke with said," Ezra replied. "It said they took the boy to a broken lady and that she went toward the sunset."

"West," Vin said.

"Yes, indeed. And Paso Del Norte is almost due west of the park, is it not?"

JD pulled up a map of Denver on his ever-present deck. He checked the area. "Yep."

"Broken lady? What the hell does that mean?" Nathan asked.

Ezra shrugged. "As I told Chris, spirits often speak in metaphor. The meaning of that particular phrase eludes me. So to be quite frank, I don't know Nathan. Perhaps it will become more clear with time."

"Yeah, maybe."

"That spirit of yours say anything else useful?" Chris asked.

"Only that at least ten men took part in the attack." Ezra stated grimly. "Also you need to know we are going to be dealing with a severely traumatized child. He tried to help Ms. Barrett, but they beat him and held him down while they raped and murdered her."

"Shit!" Chris swore. "Well, sounds like it's time to do a little huntin'."

M7M7M7

Chris pressed his palm against the keypad and then opened the weapons locker. He took down the Dragonov SVD and tossed it to Vin. The sniper snatched the weapon out of the air and retreated across the room with it. Chris watched with amusement as Vin checked the rifle with tender care, almost caressing it as he made sure the action was smooth and the weapon was ready for work. Vin glanced up and nodded before turning his attention back to his preparations. Chris grinned and continued passing out the equipment.

As they got ready Vin kept a surreptitious eye on Ezra. Out of all of them, it was the Fox shaman who took the fiercest vengeance on those who dared to hurt a child, and it looked to him like Ace was about to go on the warpath.


	3. "Those who live by the sword get shot by those who don't. ~Street Proverb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Slang defined
> 
> Stuffer Shack – a convenience store / gas station.
> 
> Omae ~ friend or dude.
> 
> Hoop- ass ; Frag- fuck ; Drek - shit
> 
> Sammy - short for samurai
> 
> cyber-spurs – implanted blades in the forearm

Ch.3

Those who live by the sword get shot by those who don't. ~Street Proverb

The Deuces' territory was a rough section of the sprawl; dirty, rank, and reeking of the stench of poverty and despair. The thunder of seven bikes echoed in the dank alleys as a challenge to the denizens of the area; a challenge they dared not ignore, for to lose face was to lose power, and that was something the Deuces dared not give up, or they would face annihilation at the hands of those seeking for the slightest hint of weakness.

Chris pulled into a Stuffer Shack, and the others followed. They dismounted and went inside. Chris walked to the front of the store followed closely by Ezra and Vin.

The clerk took one look at the three men approaching him and started stammering. "Hey, man, I…I don't want no trouble. Whatever you want… just take it an' go. Ok?"

Chris grinned. "A little information and we're gone, omae, namely where we can find the Deuces."

The clerk blanched. "No way, man, they find out I said anything and I'm a dead man."

Suddenly he was straining for breath as one of the men pinned him against the wall with a hand around his throat. "Sir, I assure you that the Deuces will seem to you to be the lesser of evils if you do not grant us the information we require post-haste." As he looked into the man's green eyes he saw suppressed rage and utter ruthlessness. He knew he was only moments away from death if he argued, so he took the expedient route and tried to speak around the constricting hand.

One of the others saw his attempt, and laid a gentling hand on his captor's arm. "Easy, Ace, he's gotta be able to breathe to tell us."

With that, Ace dropped him to the ground and stepped back. "The information, if you please."

The clerk gasped for breath and told them what they wanted to know as fast as possible.

M7M7M7

The firehouse the clerk directed them to was run-down and dirty, covered with graffiti, and pock marked with bullet holes. It was situated on a corner, which gave the gang a wide field of fire. Vin studied the area, searching for the best route to infiltrate the building. Then a black shape moved across his field of vision. He swore when he realized it was Ezra, and he knew that subtlety was about to become a moot point. "Aw, shit! Ace, what the fuck are you doing?"

The Deuces' lookout watched in amazement as an elf walked slowly across the street towards their hangout. His arms were slightly out, palms facing up, and his hands glowed with power. His long black duster flared away from his body in the wind. He was wearing a black shirt, tight black jeans, and had a pistol hung low on his hips, tied down around his thigh. A staff, wrapped in fur and adorned with crystals and amulets, also glowing with power, hung over one shoulder. She could just make out the fetishes hanging on his duster. His auburn hair was spiked on top, and just brushed his shoulders in back. She started to call for backup when the shaman's face took on a feral cast, and the front of the firehouse exploded inward.

Vin shot Chris a rueful look. "Ah, hell, so much for quiet."

Chris shouted over the com, "Ace, I am gonna kick your fucking hoop up one side and down the other!"

"Bring it on, omae," Ezra growled.

They took advantage of the distraction Ezra had provided to sprint across the street to the rubble-strewn sidewalk. Chris cut left as they reached the hole Ezra had made in the bay door. Vin and the others went right.

"Ace! You better leave some alive to interrogate!" Vin hollered. He ducked behind a desk, and took aim at the banger coming down the pole from the second floor. The sharp crack of his rifle echoed in the open bay, and the ganger fell, landing face first with a sickening crunch. He looked over to where Buck was crouched down behind a couch, and signaled him to stay put until they could get some kind of recon. Buck nodded and then fired down the hall, laying down suppressive fire to allow Josiah, Nathan, and JD to move up and join them.

"Which way did Ace and Lobo go?" Buck asked.

Vin pointed across the bay to their left.

Chris crouched down behind a van, and searched for Ezra in the gloom. He coughed, his lungs filling with smoke and dust from the after-effects of whatever spell Ezra had used to make an entrance into the building.

Ezra moved down the aisle of bikes, looking for a target. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, and threw himself to the left as a round slammed into the wall where his head had recently been. He snarled, rage burning in his eyes. He drew power from his fury, flames forming it until he could hold them no more, then let lose with a blast that rivaled the fires of hell itself. He laughed maniacally, and was rewarded by the screams of the bangers hidden there as they twisted in the flames. His focus wavered for a moment as he reeled from the spell drain. He shook his head, and then launched himself to the next bit of cover. He barely heard Vin yelling over the com. From the other side of the open bay he could hear the sharp crack of the Dragonov, followed by the staccato beat of Buck's SMG. He whirled at a sound behind him, and prepared a spell.

Chris stepped out from behind a van, and almost ate the bolt of burning plasma Ezra reflexively threw at him.

Chris ducked and yelled at Ezra, "Damn it, it's me, Ace. Stand down!" The samurai quickly moved up next to him. "We need recon before we end up killing each other!"

Ezra stared at him for a moment, fighting to get his rage under control, then growled. "Watch my meat." He slumped against the wall, and his spirit stepped into the astral.

He moved quickly through the firehouse, noting the auras of hidden gangers and the more familiar ones of his teammates. Once he had pinpointed the location of every individual in the building, he returned to his body. "Prophet, three up the stairs at your 3 o'clock, one is a mage. Falcon, five in the room at your 2. One high at 9, four low and spread out at 3, 7, 9 and 11. Stud, you have three at 12 o'clock. DT, you got two on your six. Ferret, you're in the best position to support DT. Lobo and I will take the two here for capture." 

"Ok, boys, take 'em out, terminate with extreme prejudice," Chris directed.

Jake 'Ashes' Muldoon trembled with fear as the building shook again. He crammed his twelve, almost thirteen, year-old frame behind one of the dressers in the dorm room. He stared wide-eyed down the hall, wondering what was happening. The cacophony below assaulted his ears, and further increased his confusion. It sounded like a whole fragging army had invaded the Deuces' headquarters. He clutched a small pistol, and prayed to be overlooked.

CeeCee knelt down and targeted the dark-haired sammy. She grinned as her Chaos spell slammed into him; he fell over backwards, his SMG swinging up and over, leaving a row of smoking holes up the wall and through the ceiling. She cursed when she heard a screech from the room above. She didn't have long to contemplate that turn of events, when her world erupted into a swirling mass of debris. She struggled to her feet, attempting to run or fight, when pain flared in her back as something slammed into her, and she fell to her knees. She felt the air being sucked out of her lungs as an air elemental appeared before her. Her vision grayed out, and blackness rushed in as she hit the ground.

Buck huddled on the ground, trying desperately not to throw up. A storm of conflicting images and sensations overwhelmed him, colors he had no names for swirled and twisted around him faster than he could process them; sounds roared one moment then receded into deafening silence the next. Rank smells left him retching, and his skin burned as if his clothes had turned to acid. He screamed as someone grabbed him, and dragged his body into cover. As the agony washed over him, he yelped and passed out.

JD and Nathan leap-frogged back toward the front of the building, covering each other as they darted from cover to cover.

"Stud is down." Josiah stated.

JD skidded to a halt at the announcement. For a moment he felt the urge to return to help his friend, but he had a job to do and leaving a live enemy on their back trail was unacceptable. He nodded at Nathan, and the two took up their positions to enter the room. JD hit the floor and rolled into the room, searching for a target. He sighted a ganger drawing his weapon as Nathan stepped in behind him, and he fired a split second before the other. The man's head snapped back as JD's round took him right between the eyes, his brain matter spattered the wall behind him and the man dropped like a rock, staring glassy eyed at the ceiling. JD rose to a crouch and spun as a round slammed into his shoulder. He hit the wall and slid down, leaving a smear of blood in his wake.

Nathan extended his cyber-spurs, and slashed out at the ganger rushing him. The orc grunted as his spurs connected with his arm, leaving a trail of blood to soak his sleeve. "First blood is mine," Nathan sneered. The orc retaliated with a devastating blow to the solar plexus, leaving Nathan stumbling back and gasping for breath. He recovered quickly, and snapped a side-kick to the orc's unarmored knee. There was a loud crack, and the orc screamed in agony and fell back clutching his leg. Nathan followed up with an axe kick to his trachea, crushing it and bringing a halt to the ganger's screams. The medic turned and rushed to his downed teammate's side. He dug into his pack as he ran, and tore open a trauma patch that he slapped onto JD's shoulder.

JD gagged at the taste of olives in the back of his throat as the DMSO in the trauma patch hit his blood stream, carrying with it pain killers and antibiotics. He sighed in relief as the meds kicked in.

Nathan reached down and dragged the injured decker to his feet. "Let's get back to the others."

JD nodded, and they headed back down the hall.

Josiah looked up as they joined him, and scooted over, making room for JD. He reached out and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, chanting in Latin. JD sighed as he felt his skin knit together. "Thanks, Prophet." The mage smiled and patted his shoulder.

Nathan moved forward and joined Vin in defense of their position. "Back trail cleared."

Vin nodded. "Lobo? Ace? You copy? Stud and Ferret are down."

"How bad?" Chris replied.

"A spell worm took Stud out. Prophet says no permanent damage, but it's gonna take him awhile to shake this off. Ferret was shot. He can still fight if he's gotta, but we need to wrap this up." 

"Acknowledged."

Chris motioned up the stairs and received a nod from Ezra; the two stealthily ascended to the next floor.

"Left, one norm." Ezra said shortly. He reached for the small fetish of a Native American shield on his duster and broke it, calling his bullet barrier into being. He stepped into the room and smirked at the ganger's look of shock as his rounds glanced off the invisible shield. Ezra placed a finger over his lips - "Shhh." Reaching out magically, he attacked, going for the man's psyche rather than his body. The kid's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he slumped to the floor. Ezra snatched up the man's weapon, and slapped a tranq patch on his cheek, then gave it an extra pat. "Sleep tight," he grinned. "Prisoner secured."

"Falcon, can you spare someone?" Chris asked.

"Yeah. DT, go get 'em."

"On my way." Nathanacknowledged.

Ezra stumbled a bit as he left the room. Chris shot him a concerned look, but he just shook his head. "I'm fine. Shall we proceed?" He led the way down the hall to the next room. On the right was a small kitchen, and on the left was a locker room.

"I'll take the right," Chris said.

Ezra nodded and went left. He cautiously eased the door open, and slipped into the locker room. He stopped and held his breath as a furtive noise caught his attention, a small sound like cloth brushing against something. He crept forward, and then crashed to the ground as something tackled him from behind. He rolled over, desperately trying to get a grip on the infuriated ganger. His opponent continued the roll, leaving Ezra once again face down with the man on his back, pinning him down. The ganger's hands wrapped around his throat and squeezed. Ezra bucked trying to throw him off, but he felt himself losing strength as the man ground his face into the filthy floor. In desperation, he made a minuscule gesture toward the man as if flinging him away. The man lost his grip and careened through the air, colliding with the wall with a heavy thud. He shook his head and shakily climbed to his feet. Ezra rolled over and caught him coming back up with a glowing bolt of energy. The man fell back, slamming his head into the concrete. Ezra slumped, panting, his throat aching from the assault. His head reeled from spell drain and he fought to stay conscious. His hands shook and he wasn't sure he would be able to stand, so he crawled to the unconscious ganger and not so gently slapped a tranq patch on the man.

"Ace?"

"I'm fine. Second prisoner secured."

"Acknowledged. Kitchen is clear."

Ezra stood shakily before grabbing his prisoner and dragging him out the door to the hall. He dropped the ganger where Chris would find him, securing his hands and feet with zip ties. Then he moved down the hall to the next room. Ezra inched his way through the doorway, but something made him stop in his tracks. He ducked back into the hall as a round slapped into the doorframe next to him. "Shit! Lobo, I need you."

"On my way."

"Need you to watch my meat. This room should be empty, but it's not. I need to recon."

"Go."

Ezra slumped against the wall and slipped into the astral, stepping though the wall, he scanned the area. A rapidly fluctuating aura by the dresser pinpointed his target. He quickly checked the rest of the top floor but everyone else was accounted for, so he returned to his body and sat up. Dropping to the floor, he rolled into the doorway and threw a bolt of physic power at the ganger hiding in the room. A small caliber pistol dropped from the figure's hand and a small body fell to the floor. "Oh hell, it's a kid." He grabbed the boy, and threw him over one shoulder. "Top floor secured."

"Ground floor secured." Falcon replied.

"Gentlemen, may I suggest that we effect our egress before we are inundated by the overzealous attentions of the local constabulary?"

Seven men, with three prisoners in tow, looked with dismay at seven motorcycles. "Mayhap, we did not quite think this through."

Vin turned and stared at Ezra. "We? Did you say we? What we, white man? You got a mouse in your pocket? We were gonna go in all nice and quiet like, and have a little chat with someone. But then someone else decided to go all psycho shaman and take out the whole fucking block!"

Instead of firing off the snarky comeback Vin was expecting, Ezra stood quietly and seemed to waver in place for a second. Suddenly, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head, and he began to crumble to the ground.

Vin jumped forward, catching him before he could crack his head open on the sidewalk. "Aw, shit! Now what!" he cursed.

M7M7M7

Ezra blinked, not quite sure how he had gotten to the astral plane. He looked around bemusedly, and wandered down an overgrown path into a small glade. Silver-leafed trees hugged a small meadow, and flowers in hues he couldn't even begin to name danced in the breeze. Waiting patiently in the center was a small figure. He stepped into the glade and approached her warily.

Fox sat primly, with her tail curled neatly around her feet. "Well, my dear Ezra, you certainly have screwed the pooch this time, haven't you?" Her tone dripped with sarcasm. "I mean, seriously? A frontal assault? Hell blast? Why not just go for broke and bring in a tac nuke? Have you perhaps been moonlighting for my cousin Wolf behind my back?" The vixen stared at him disdainfully.

"Umm… hello, Fox," he stammered. He wasn't sure why he always saw her as female. Perhaps it was because to him, Fox always embodied the subtlety, mystery, and allure of the fairer sex that he so admired.

She stood and walked toward him, morphing into a beautiful woman with long red hair, sparkling jade green eyes, and dressed in an outfit that subtly mimicked his own. The sway of her hips as she moved forward was mesmerizing. He licked his lips; she brought everything that was male in him - body, soul, and spirit - to full attention.

"And if I was human, I might just consider indulging you." She chuckled seductively as he blushed clear down to his toes.

"You, madam, are toying with me," he ground out.

She leaned close. "Yes," she whispered, "I most certainly am." He jumped and shivered as her warm breath caressed his ear. She pressed herself against his back and ran a slow hand up his flank. He shuddered under her touch, fighting to keep control. "I suppose that you couldn't help it, and I must admit that seeing you in such a state of raw power was quite… intriguing." She trailed her hand across his chest, brushing sensitive nipples, then gently nipped his earlobe and smiled at his sudden intake of breath.

He turned in her arms to face her. "What…do you mean…I couldn't help it?" he asked.

"Oh, I am sure if you think about it for awhile you will figure it out," she said coyly. She smiled up at him. "After all, it's just a matter of remembering."

"Remembering…" He stared down into her eyes, and sighed as she pressed in closer. Her scent filled his nostrils, sweet and alluring; her taste as she brushed a kiss against his lips intoxicated him like the finest brandy. He shivered as her hair brushed across his neck like sun warmed silk. Every nerve was alive with the essence of her. He was hers.

M7M7M7

Ezra opened his eyes, and found the kid he had hauled out of the firehouse staring back at him. The boy sat with his back to the wall, hands bound, and knees pulled up to his chest. The boy had a look of sheer terror in his eyes, and he seemed to be doing his best to make himself disappear into the wall. "What's your name?" Ezra asked him.

The kid gulped and hid his face in his knees.

Ezra stared at him in dismay. "Lobo?"

"Yeah?"

"What is this kid doing here?"

"Hell, Ace, you tell me. You brought him out. What do you want us to do with him? Kill 'im?"

"Of course not! He's just a kid. Lobo, I am, quite frankly, appalled, sir, that you should even suggest such a thing. We are going to have to let him go."

"Yeah? How?"

"What do you mean how?" 

"Look," Chris explained patiently, "we just went in and killed off the majority of his gang, blew up his house, and kidnapped him. If it was you, what would you do, Ace?"

"Fuck."

"Yeah."

"What if we sent him to the judge?" JD cut into the conversation.

"Ya know… that isn't a bad idea, Ferret." Chris answered. "Why don't you give him a call and see if you can set that up?" 

"Will do," JD said.

Ezra groaned as he sat up. His temples throbbed to the beat of his heart. His vision grayed out for a moment and his stomach heaved. He felt a sharp tug in his hand, and realized Nathan had started an IV sometime after they had arrived back at their safe house.

"Drain's a bitch, huh, Ace?" Josiah chuckled.

"Indeed it is, my diminutive friend."

"Well, perhaps if you hadn't attempted to take out the entire gang all by yourself…"

"Prophet?"

"Yes, Ace?"

"If you would, please, do insert a suitably snarky riposte here. I seem to be too tired at the moment to think of one."

Josiah laughed.

" May I inquire as to how you solved our transportation dilemma?"

"Ferret rode back and got the City Master. He came and picked us up and brought us here. Then he, Falcon, and I went and picked up the rest of the bikes"

Ezra winced as every muscle in his body simultaneously decided to inform him of their opinion of his actions. "Am I to take it that I have been indisposed for a period of time?" 

"Oh, not long, about six hours."

"Six hours? Ah, hell." He rolled his shoulders in a vain attempt to release the tension.

Nathan entered the room, and tossed Ezra a power bar and a bottle of energy drink. Then he crossed to the kid, cut the zip ties binding his hands, and handed him a bar and bottle as well. "Eat."

"Thank you, Nathan. I am assuming that our other guests have been properly incarcerated."

Nathan grinned. "Yeah, we have 'em locked up, but I gotta tell you they're not at all happy campers."

"May I suggest we keep that information from our young charge here? I would prefer he not be more traumatized than he already is."

"No problem, he didn't come to until after we were already here and they were separated by then, so he has no idea we have them. Poor kid has been scared out of his mind, but we've been a little too busy to deal with him," Nathan admitted.

"Leave that to me."

Nathan nodded. "Will do. Holler if you need help." He disconnected the IV from Ezra's hand and removed the line.

By the time an escort had arrived to whisk the boy off to his new life, Ezra had reassured the ex-ganger of his good intentions enough that the kid had revealed his name, age, and some of his life story, and was comfortable enough to leave with said escort without demur.

M7M7M7

Chris glared at the stubborn prisoner. Normally he admired loyalty, but this little prick was trying his patience. "Ace, can you make this fragger talk?"

Ezra turned and flashed a feral grin. "Abso-fucking-lutely," he subvocalized. He raised his hand, gathering his power, his fingers glowing with foxfire. "Would you like to rethink your position, sir, or are you still disinclined to acquiesce to our request for information?" The banger squealed as he was lifted into the air by unseen hands, and turned upside down. He floated there for a few seconds, then dropped like a rock only to stop a scant inch above the concrete floor.

Vin leaned down and smiled into his eyes with all the warmth of a striking rattlesnake. "Now, you look like a smart feller. How many times are we gonna have to drop you on your head before your neck breaks?" He turned to the others. " Maybe we should ask his friend."

Buck laughed, "Yeah, Falcon, let's ask his friend." A single gunshot rang out, and the ganger flinched.

Vin shrugged. " Well, too late for that." He turned back to where the guy spun in the air. "Ya got something to say, boy, or do we turn Prophet and Ace loose to do their thing?"

Buck leaned down and whispered in the ganger's ear. "You might want to start talking, son. Prophet there has been known to go a bit Old Testament if ya catch my drift, but Ace…" he shook his head and chuckled evilly. "Ace is an amoral son of a bitch who will use yer body parts for rituals without a second thought."

Josiah stepped into their prisoner's line of sight followed by his fire elemental. The banger's eyes grew wider as he felt waves of heat emanating from the spirit. Then Ezra stepped into view, and it was the dispassionate way the shaman studied him that made the guy lose control of both his bladder and his mouth.

"Oh gods no, don't let him cut me up! I swear I'll tell you whatever you want to know. What she looked like... what she wore, drove, where we was to take 'im... I swear. Just let me down. Please, let me down. See, this… this slitch come up and want us to take some kid. Said to bring him to the Four Corners on Paso Del Norte. Room 215. She was driving a Westwind. Umm, yeah, ummm, black, maybe dark blue… the plate was .. 2XS something… and Nips said it would an easy 2k."

"What did she look like?" Vin grabbed the guy by his collar and pulled him close.

"Drek…I didn't get a good look! But…oh God…she… yeah, she was a norm and had like dirty blonde hair and she was old- like forty or something."

Ezra stepped in. "What then, was your part in this?" he asked menacingly.

"My… my part?"

"Were- you- there –at- the- park?" Ezra ground out.

"Yeah, yeah but…" The banger blanched and sputtered "I… I swear I didn't know we was gonna whack the babysitter. That wasn't part of the original deal, ya know? It just… got outta hand and then Matches killed the slitch and me and Brado… we knew it was time to get outta der. So we run, and God, mister, did ya have to kill him?"

"Got out of hand?" Ezra snarled, and raised a glowing hand.

Chris jumped forward and grabbed his arm, forcing it down. "Easy, Ace. There's a better way."

Seething with frustration and rage, Ezra shook Chris off. His anger swelled, finally blotting out all rational thought, and he leapt forward with the intent of ripping the scum's throat out with his bare hands.

Chris spun him around, and hit him with one strategically placed punch.

Ezra's head snapped back, and for the second time that day he hit the ground out cold.

The ganger, released from Ezra's levitate spell, likewise crashed to the ground.


	4. "The corps have rules, and so do the streets. Play at your own risk." ~ Street Proverb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> The Night of Rage on February 7, 2039, signified the date of the single greatest anti-metahuman riot of all time. Three days later, Alamos 20,000 used explosives and magic to collapse and destroy the Sears Tower. The area around the tower was utterly devastated, and was never repaired (now called the "Shattergraves"). Gradually, legislation was introduced that gave all metahumans equal rights, but the damage had been done.

Ch.4

"The corps have rules, and so do the streets. Play at your own risk." ~ Street Proverb

"Hola, Senor Lobo. What can I do for you?" Inez smiled at the samurai.

"Hola, Inez. I need to subcontract."

"The job?"

"Prisoner watch for undetermined time frame."

Inez cocked her head and considered her current stable of Shadowrunners. "Your offer?"

"5k for one week. Renegotiate if necessary."

She nodded. "I think I can fill your order. Give me an hour and I will get back to you."

Inez called back in forty-five minutes with the name of a team who would accept the job. An hour and a half later the gangers were out of the team's hair and on ice watched over by a team of neophyte Shadowrunners looking to get started in the biz. They all heaved a sigh of relief and went to let Ezra out of the room they had locked him in.

The vote had gone against Chris five to one.

"Hell, Chris, you locked him in there… you get him out. We'll wait over here." Vin grinned at him.

Chris took a deep breath and unlocked the door, not sure what he would find once he stepped inside. He entered slowly and found Ezra sitting in the middle of a debris field, silent and seething, the heat rising from his body permeating every corner of the room.

The shaman looked up into Chris's eyes. "What is wrong with me?" he asked, his tone bordering on both plaintive and raging.

Chris sat down next to him. "I don't know, but we're going to find out."

"I am just so… angry. I want to kill them Chris. I want to rip their hearts out through their noses with my bare hands and feed it to them. I don't just want to them to die, I want them to die slowly… in agony."

"Hell, Ezra. We're all pissed. You just don't treat a kid…" he trailed off as Ezra shook his head frantically.

"No, no, no. You aren't listening, Chris. This is different! This is…all out of proportion. It's… visceral." He stopped, desperately searching for the words to explain how overwhelming it was, to make Chris understand. "I.. uh.. talked to Fox," he stammered. Ezra blushed, and then hurried on. "She said that it wasn't entirely my fault and she hinted that there is something manipulating me."

Chris didn't answer for a moment, clearly mulling over what the shaman had just revealed. "Something's manipulating you? And you're just now telling me about it? Damn it Ezra!"

"I'm sorry," he shot back. "I thought I could control it!"

Chris snorted. "Obviously you were wrong."

Ezra scowled. "Obviously." He gestured to the destroyed room.

"Any idea what it could be?"

Ezra ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "No! I have been wracking my brain and I just can't remember… remember…" he trailed off, brow furrowed.

"What is it?" Chris lapsed back into silence at Ezra's upraised hand. He idly contemplated the destruction of the room while he waited. The desk had been upturned, papers shredded, the two chairs were in scattered pieces flung around the room. The bulletproof window was cracked and there were fist-sized holes in the sheet rock. There were shards of glass from the central light bulb embedded in the wall and furniture; the couch had been eviscerated, scattering bits of stuffing around the room.

A sharp cry brought his attention back to his teammate. Ezra was rocking in place, both hands clenched in his hair, the look on his face one of…agony? Frustration? Rage? Chris wasn't sure just what the shaman was feeling, but whatever it was sure didn't look pleasant. He rested his hand on the man's shoulder. "Ezra! Let it go. We'll figure it out. In the meantime, why don't you go get some sleep?"

"Damn it, Chris! I was out for six hours."

"No! Sleep, damn it! Not passed out. Now git!" Chris demanded. He grinned at Ezra's grousing, and then sighed with relief when he was obeyed. It was always tricky leading a shaman, especially fox. They were all so damn…Machiavellian.

M7M7M7

"How is he?" Vin asked quietly.

"It's not good, Vin. Someone got to him and fucked with his head." Chris pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What? How? When? He hasn't been alone since we started… oh God! The playground. He was alone there." Vin shot a horrified look at Chris. "PROPHET!"

"Damn it, Falcon don't yell. What do you want?" Josiah grumbled.

"Get up here right now! We need you!"

"On my way."

Vin paced back and forth while they waited for Josiah.

"What're you thinking, Vin?" Chris asked him.

"Honestly, Chris, I'm not even sure if it would be possible." He snorted. "I mean hell, what do I know about mojo? But what if that spirit he summoned did something to him?" Vin asked.

"But you're a physical adept. Don't you use magic?" Chris asked.

"Well, yeah," he admitted. "but it's not the same. It's not like I cast spells, like Ezra or 'Siah. It just…gives me an edge; makes me faster, and I can do a little self-healing, and I got really good eyesight; hell, all my senses really. But mostly…" he fidgeted. " I don't tell most folks this, but it gives me this weird combat sense, ya know? Like I can tell what the other fella's gonna do."

Chris nodded. "Yeah, ya tend to develop that when ya fight for a living. Got it as a Delta. Not like you with the magic or anything. Just developed this sixth sense." Chris shrugged. "But anyway, if that spirit did do something, Josiah should be able to tell us and we'll help Ezra figure out how to fix it."

The two men turned as Josiah came bustling into the room. "Ok, what's the problem?"

The mage listened carefully as Vin explained his idea. "Well," he said slowly. "I suppose if Ezra was dealing with a free spirit, that might be possible…" He paused to consider it. "Free spirits are… odd. No one really knows the extent of what they can do. Honestly, I need to talk to Ezra and see what he did and what he called." He headed out the door muttering to himself. "… yes, an interesting idea…."

M7M7M7

She tried to rush forward, but was paralyzed; screamed in anger and denial, but was voiceless. Her arms ached as she reached desperately for her son as dark, menacing shadows surrounded him. Saw his blue eyes filled with pain and fear and cried herself; helpless to do anything for him as the shadows hid him from her sight. Margaret woke with a scream crawling its way up her throat. In a rare moment of lucid thought she knew that Jason, her little son, was gone, swallowed up in the madness of The Night of Rage… but sanity was fleeting.

Billy huddled in the bed and cried silently. He had already learned that it was in his best interest to stay quiet, but the lesson hadn't been taught through physical means. No, the only bruises he had were those he sustained from the beating he took when Elizabeth died. The crazy lady who called him Jason wouldn't hurt him, but she had other ways of making him behave, ways that scared him on a deeper level than the threat of physical pain. It was in the way she stared at him that made his skin crawl and made him want to creep into a corner and hide. There was something in her eyes that wasn't right, something...broken, and he was terrified by it. He feared what she would do if she suddenly realized he was not the little boy she was longing for. Sniffling softly, he looked around the room where he spent most of his time. It had everything a boy could dream of… but it wasn't his and he - he slammed a rebellious fist into his pillow - he wasn't Jason! But she believed he was, and with a whimper, he couldn't help but wonder if that was the only thing keeping him alive. He hugged the pillow to his face and cried some more until he fell into an uneasy sleep.

M7M7M7

Louis Carletti entered the darkened room cautiously. It wouldn't be wise to startle the boss when he was of such uncertain temper. "Sir?"

The tall figure at the window turned. "What is it, Mr. Carletti?"

"I have that report you asked for." Louis' skin shivered at the feeling of malice that permeated the office.

"Put it on the desk."

He stepped forward and laid the file on the barren desk. He cleared his throat tentatively. "We'll find her, sir." He jumped back as his boss turned and looked at him, dead eyes gazing at him as if he was a curious specimen.

"For your sake, you had better," he stated dispassionately.

Louis cringed and turned to go. He knew very well that the boss never made idle threats. He simply told you the way it was.

"Oh, and Mr. Carletti, if you do not, I would suggest you not even bother to return."

M7M7M7

Josiah and Ezra sat cross-legged on the floor quietly discussing the events at the playground. Chris watched from the doorway, noting the easy companionship between the two meta-humans. So different - one dwarf, one elf, one hermetic, one shamanistic - but through it all, still friends, teammates, brothers.

"Come on in, Chris," Josiah said. "We think we have figured out what went wrong."

Chris smiled. "That's a relief. Care to share?" He sat down, his back supported by the wall.

"Well," Ezra started, "spirits often need to be coaxed …"

"Or coerced," Josiah cut in.

"Or coerced," Ezra agreed. "I, however, prefer to gain allies rather than to force obedience, so I offer rewards."

"And you offered that spirit a reward?" Chris asked.

"I did, a happy memory. Usually a spirit will… feed, for lack of a better term, on emotional energy, but we believe that this spirit actually took my memory, and left the memory of Ms. Barrett's murder in its place."

"With all of the associated emotions that went with it." Josiah added.

"Which is why I was feeling so much rage and need for vengeance. And quite frankly I still am." Ezra confessed. "Chris… It's overwhelming. I can't control it. If you think of it as a psychic wound, I'm bleeding out."

"Damn." Chris ran his hand through his hair. "Can you get rid of it?"

"Perhaps. There is something that we have been considering…" he paused.

"But?"

"But there is a problem." He glanced over at Chris. "I don't belong to a lodge and it would require ... help."

Chris clapped a hand on Ezra's shoulder and grinned. "And that's a problem why?"

Ezra grinned back. "You might want to know what you would be getting into before you volunteer your services, Lobo," he warned. "The idea we have is a sweat lodge ceremony."

Chris just shot him that look, the one that said I got your back brother. "I'll get a hold of the judge and give him an update."


	5. For the strength of the pack is the wolf and the strength of the wolf is the pack. ~ Street Proverb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> A special thanks to DeckerM for the lovely poem. They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I say inspiration is the sincerest form of flattery, and I am flattered beyond belief that my scene would inspire something so very beautiful, and that she would graciously allow me to include it in this scene.
> 
> Treaty City ~ Denver
> 
> SeaTac ~ Seattle - Tacoma

Ch. 5

For the strength of the pack is the wolf and the strength of the wolf is the pack. ~ Street Proverb

Ezra sat for a moment to collect his thoughts. It had been awhile since he had talked to either of his friends. They went way back to before he had hooked up with the Seventh. He smiled… Mask with her striped hair, love of crystals and wicked mischievousness. Sundancer with his scars and caustic humor, good friends and Ezra knew if possible they would drop everything and come running. Well, he corrected himself. 'Dancer would at least…. Mask? Only time will tell. He punched in the first number and waited.

"Yeah."

Even with no video Ezra would have recognized 'Dancers voice anywhere. "Dancer."

The screen lit up and the smiling visage of a handsome Amerindian man appeared. "Ace! How the hell are ya, man? Long time no hear! How're they hangin? You still with the Seventh?" 'Dancer laughed.

Ezra smiled. "Yes, I am still with the Seventh. They are hanging quite nicely, thank you very much. And I am sorry it has been so long but hey honey you didn't call either ya know?" He shot back sarcastically.

'Dancer laughed uproariously. "Good to know. So what can I do ya for?"

Ezra shifted in his seat. "Would you perchance be available for the next week or so?" He asked hesitantly.

'Dancer stared at him, noting the faint circles under his eyes and the slight signs of tension in his face, things only a very good friend of Ezra's would notice. "After a bit of rearranging yeah. Where do you need me, and who am I killing?"

Ezra smiled thinly. "Sorry, 'Dancer, no mayhem this time. I uh.. need to do a sweat lodge ceremony and I know you have done this before so… I need your expertise."

Dancer stared at him. "Are you talking full Sun Dance ceremony or just a sweat?"

"No, no. Just a sweat. I will explain everything when you get here."

"Can do. You still in Treaty City?"

"Yes."

"Be there in about four hours then. See ya on da flip side." The screen went dark. End Trans…

Heartened by his success, Ezra typed in the next number and took a deep breath. This conversation would be very different.

"Hello?" As with the previous call, Mask had chosen to answer with no video.

Ezra smiled, his heart catching in remembrance. "Hello Mask."

The screen lit up and there she sat, blue eyes wide in surprise. "Wildcard? Is it really you?" Her hair was sunshine blonde this time with faint rings of darker honey gold. The tips of her ears peeked through her long tresses. The room behind her was understatedly elegant. She had obviously done well for herself since he had last seen her.

Ezra smiled in relief. At least she hadn't disconnected the moment she recognized him. "It is. One thing though," he said, suddenly serious. "Wildcard is dead. It's Ace now."

She looked stricken, then understanding. "All right… Ace."

Seeking to bring back the light in her eyes he asked, "So how are you?"

She laughed lightly. "Oh, you know how it is. Busy with this and that." She paused. "How have you been? It's been awhile."

"I know… I'm sorry." Sorry for so many things.

"Ace… Ezra. I know ok? I understand and we're fine. It was a long time ago, life moves on and hearts heal." She smiled and her face lit up with joy. "I'm just so glad to hear from you." She studied his face for a moment then frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Now what makes you think anything is wrong?" he asked.

She frowned. "Ace! Don't even start with the SA stuff."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "SA?"

"Yes, you know…Stoics Anonymous?" She deepened her voice in mimicry. " Hi, my name is Ace and I'm fine…" She grinned.

He burst out laughing. "Touché, my dear. Well, since my obfuscation does not work with you, the unvarnished truth is I am in a bit of a difficult situation and require some assistance. I needs must undergo a sweat lodge ceremony and we have need of a keeper of the fire. Would you perchance be able to lend your assistance?"

"Sweat lodge? As in sweaty nekkid men?" Mask shot him a wicked grin, and a mischievous wink. "I am so there. When and where?"

Ezra shook his head. "Mask? Never change. 'Dancer will be here too."

She giggled. "Oh goody, so it can be like a joke…. A Raccoon shaman, a Wolf shaman and a Fox shaman walk into a bar…"

He chuckled, gave her the address and disconnected, with her assurance that she would be on the next flight out of SeaTac.

M7M7M7

The mountains were bathed in the golden light of dawn, turning the snow-covered peaks into a glorious spectacle. Brightly colored alpine flowers danced in the light breeze filling the crisp air with their intoxicating scent. The same breeze set the leaves of the quaking aspen to shivering and teased the needles of the pine trees, their gentle rustling a counter point to the laughing stream.

Stripped of their shirts, taut muscles rippling in the morning sun, Sundancer and Ezra worked together building the sweat lodge. Ezra paused and wiped the sweat from his brow. He looked over to the fire pit where Mask was directing the others in the placement of the stones needed for the ceremony. She had a small contented smile on her lips and her eyes sparkled with merriment. "How are you doing over there, Minx?" he called.

She flashed him a brilliant smile. "I'm fine, Ace." She paused and allowed her eyes to run over his lean frame. "Just fine," she murmured softly.

He cocked an eyebrow and returned the favor, delighting in the implied offer in her gaze. Then he turned away and continued with his task. Normally he eschewed such menial labor but tradition dictated that he be involved in the construction of the structure so he worked with a will. Sooner started, sooner done. Then they could get back to their interrupted Run.

M7M7M7

The sky had turned a deep velvety black and the stars twinkled overhead by the time the lodge and fire pit were ready. The men gathered beside a small tent that had been erected on the edge of the clearing. By the fire pit, Mask set up her drum and a sheepskin rug to sit on. She arranged her tools, listening with half an ear to their conversation.

The others gathered around Sundancer. "Ok, usually I would tell you about the sweat lodge and the traditions that go with it, but I am not going to do that."

"You're not?" Ezra asked.

"No, a sweat is about personal growth and healing. It would be one thing if this was a sweat amongst the People. But you're a unique bunch and this is for one of you. So we're going to tailor the experience and just go with the flow and see where it takes us. One thing I do need to warn ya about though. You need to take off those earrings ya'll wear. Oh, and I notice all of ya have some kind of magical focus on you. You might want to remove those as well."

Ezra and Prophet exchanged looks and burst out laughing. "That would be a mite difficult 'Dancer," Prophet answered.

At his quizzical look, Ezra explained. "The spell foci you refer to are tattoos with a heal spell worked into the design. Can't be lost, stolen or misplaced."

Dancer grinned. "Good idea."

The entire group jumped when Mask spoke up. "OOO I wanna see. What'd ya get, Ace?" They all laughed as she waggled her eyebrows at him. "You show me yours and I'll show you mine." She winked at him.

Ezra laughed. "My dear lady, that is a most intriguing offer and one I am inclined to indulge if for no other reason than to satisfy my curiosity. But as a gentleman I have to say… ladies first."

Mask laughed. "Gentleman huh? You sure that ain't the gambler talking… Wildcard?" She chuckled when he just spread his hands and grinned. She turned her back to the group and lifted her shirt, pulling the collar over her head and holding the front of the shirt tight. Covering most of her back was a mountain peak with a brilliantly colored Phoenix rising from the summit. She put her shirt back on and turned back to them. "Ok, your turn," Her eyes twinkled mischievously.

Ezra laughed. "A lovely display of optimism and courage my dear Minx. I would expect nothing less from a lady of your caliber."

Mask cocked her head. "Don't you try any of that misdirection on me, Mister! A deal is a deal, show!"

Ezra stood up and maintaining eye contact with her he pulled his shirt off and casually dropped it to the ground and unbuckled his belt. He unbuttoned his jeans and slowly pulled down the waistband to reveal a small tattoo nestled against his left hipbone. His tattoo shimmered to her astral sight, gently pulsing with magic. It was an ace of spades; curled up in one corner was a Fox staring alertly at her and in the other corner was the number seven.

"That is perfect, Ace. Now…" She grinned at the others. "How about yours?"

They froze staring at her. "Umm… what about ours?" JD asked nervously.

"Oh come on. You saw mine. I want to see all of yours. You're not… chicken are you there, Ferret?"

"No," he blustered.

Her look of challenge said it all.

JD blushed but stood up and pulled off his shirt. In contrast to his teammate, his tattoo was complex. A ferret crawled from under his arm up to a shoulder, a cyberdeck clutched firmly in its paws with the cable hanging down and curling across his tight abs and finally trailing below his waistband.

Mask smiled. "Very nice ink work, there. Are you the artist?"

JD grinned shyly. "Yeah. You really like it?"

"I do, very much." She assured him.

She glanced over at Chris, who smiled and also removed his shirt, revealing a black wolf howling in front of a full moon on his left pectoral, just above his heart.

Mask froze as the image of a wolf howling for his lost mate ran through her mind. She sent him a look of sympathy and turned to Vin.

"And you sir?" She asked curiously.

Vin smiled a slow sweet smile and his lovely blue eyes sparkled at her. He removed his shirt and turned his back showing the peregrine flacon in a full stoop, talons extended on his right shoulder. On the left side was a dragon playfully peeking over his shoulder. Both tattoos shimmered in the astral.

Nathan grinned and just turned his forearm to the light. His winged staff with the number 7 over it glowed with healing power to her sight. "Got the staff when I was in Delta Force with Lobo and Stud, it's the symbol of the combat medics. Then added the seven when we mustered out and started Running. The seven is where the mojo is," he said.

She nodded. "Yes it certainly is," she agreed with a smile. "How about you, Prophet?"

He rolled up a sleeve and revealed an intricate Celtic cross on his muscular bicep. The colors of the four elements moved around the knot work morphing from one color to the next. Red for fire at the top, yellow for air to the right, green for earth on the bottom and blue for water to the left.

"That is lovely, Prophet. Did the same tattoo artist do all your work?"

"He did," Josiah said.

"And Ferret, here, designed all of them," Buck said affectionately. He reached over and ruffled JD's hair.

"You do beautiful work Ferret. Prophet's design is very clever with the medicine wheel and cross fusion."

JD smiled brilliantly. "Thanks."

"But what about yours Stud?"

"Aw, he won't want to show ya, Mask." JD laughed.

"Oh? Why ever not?"

"'Cause the irreverent son of a bitch had 'em put it on his ass." Vin managed to get out past his chuckles.

Mask cocked an eyebrow. "Indeed? Well, let's see then," she dared him.

Stud shrugged off the teasing and grinned. "All right." He turned, took a deep breath and dropped his jeans bearing a nicely muscled backside. On his left cheek was the figure of a woman dressed in an off-one-shoulder silvery blue jumpsuit, wearing a domino mask with water cascading off her figure. She was crouched down with one leg stretched out to the side, one hand balancing her on the side of a pool and the other clutching a sword.

"Oh Ferret, that is beautiful!"

JD beamed. "Thank you, Mask. I wanted something special for Stud."

"Well, it's definitely special; and I gotta say Stud. Nice placement there," she giggled, the turned back to JD. "Can you share the symbolism?"

JD glanced over at Buck who shrugged. "Go ahead." Buck said. He tugged his jeans back up covering the tattoo.

JD smiled at him and turned back to Mask. "Well, the sword is for when he was Delta and the woman because there's nothing Stud loves more than the ladies" he grinned.

"And the mask?" she asked quietly.

JD hesitated. No one had ever picked up on the fact that the mask was an integral part of his design before. "The man who hides behind the clown," he whispered to her.

She nodded. "I like it. Would you design a tat for me please? I can pay you."

"I would be honored. And Mask…" He gave her a shy smile, "I don't charge my friends."

"Well Mask, if your insatiable curiosity is satisfied, may we please get on with this so these guys can get back to their biz?" Sundance asked.

"You bet." Mask grinned. "Carry on, gentlemen." She stuck her nose up in the air and sashayed away imperiously.

Eight appreciative sets of eyes watched as she went back to her fire pit and bent over to add more wood.

"Hey Ace? That why you call 'er Minx?" Vin asked softly.

"Oh yes, indeed" He chuckled.

M7M7M7

"When you enter the lodge, move clockwise. Ace you sit on the north side, Lobo, you're on the east, Falcon, on the south and Prophet, you're on the west, and the rest of you between each of them. I sit here by the door." 'Dancer instructed them. They arranged themselves and waited while Mask brought the heated stones and 'Dancer arranged them in the pit. She nodded to them all and dropped the flap sealing them in. Aglow with the luminance of the red-hot stones, Ezra laid a small bundle of tobacco in the pit, Chris added cedar, Vin, sweet grass and finally Josiah set down his bundle of sage. 'Dancer poured a ladle of water over the stones and the steam billowed out filling the lodge with the sweet scent of the herbs. Outside, Mask began playing her drum, a quiet heartbeat rhythm that soothed and drew them into a light trance. Her sweet voice chanted leading Ezra down the trail of memory to the playground.

A child plays on the swing, a picture of innocence. The child's giggles bring delight to his nanny. She sits indulgently on the bench watching the boy, but in the park there is danger. 

He calls out to her, warning her. 'RUN! Take the boy and get out!' But she cannot hear the spirit world. He bobs in place, in agony as they take her; her screams split the air as one after another they violate her. The child screams and struggles but they hold him down forcing him to watch as they rip away his innocence and security. 

Rage builds but still he can do nothing. He, too, is forced to watch in impotency and horror as at last her life is stolen from her slowly and with unholy glee. As the light leaves her eyes her murderer rises and spits with contempt on her lifeless body, leaving her crumpled and discarded. Then he beats the child and drags him away. 

Righteous fury overwhelms him and he strikes out uncontrollably but it is futile. He cannot affect the material plane. His screams echo through the park as they drag the child over the rough ground by his hair and throw him into a car.

Ezra shuddered, his face twisting in anguish. He echoed the screams of torment, his frame shaking as the memory held him in a furious grip.

Chris reached out and laid a hand on Ezra's shoulder. "Easy Ezra, we got ya."

Vin took up Mask's chant, his velvety baritone a counterpoint to her soprano. JD's tenor joined them, weaving a melody of harmony and peace and Josiah's bass rose to support them. Nathan's voice merged with theirs, followed by Buck and Chris, seven voices blazing a trail to lead Ezra home.

The drum beat

The heart beat

The song  
The soul

Woven, interwoven

Over and under

Over and over again.

Twining twisting  
Growing Binding

Searching Finding

The heart beat  
The drumbeat

The truth The true path  
Healing and whole… 

Coming home

To yourself.

He stands in the park, head cocked, straining to locate the sound that teases his soul. Coaxing him to follow. The rage strains to keep its grip pulling him back, dragging him down. Screams threaten to drown out the delicate melody. He takes a step away and the rage slips, only a minute fraction, but he is heartened and takes another stumbling stride away. The music swells and urges him on. He leaves the park behind. Vengeance can wait. Fury falls by the wayside, tossed aside. The voices call to him and their love is stronger than rage. He breaks into a run and strength flows through his limbs. He leaves the fury behind and reaches for peace. 

Ezra groaned, every muscle in his body aching as if he had been beaten. Sweat poured down his chest and soaked his hair. And while his body felt ravaged he reveled in the peace of heart he felt. He sat quietly listening as his teammates… his brothers sang, their voices joined in harmony. This was a worthy memory to replace the horror and rage that Akela had left him with.

At last they stumbled from the lodge to lie on the soft turf and enjoy the crisp breeze that brought relief to hot, sweaty bodies.

Ezra stretched out on the grass and reveled in the serenity that had taken the place of enmity and sorrow. He glanced around and noticed that Mask had disappeared to give them the privacy they needed. Although, knowing her, she might very well be sitting up in a tree with a spyglass. He shook his head; somebody should kick him for letting so many years go by without getting back in contact with his irrepressible friend. He was struggling to sit up when suddenly JD called out. "Hey! Where are our clothes?" Ezra fell back on the turf, laughing helplessly as Mask giggled and called back "Maybe you better go find them."


	6. "That which does not kill me is dead when I'm through with it."~ Lobo – Street samurai

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smarts– search programs designed to look for things independently of a decker.
> 
> Doc Wagon - Provider of elite emergency medical services. Doc Wagonwill not respond to calls on extraterritorial government or corporate property without permission from that controlling authority.
> 
> ghouls (Homo sapiens wichtusare) a mutation caused by a virus known as HMHVV (Human Meta-Human Vampiric Virus). While they are not un-dead, they do exhibit the same vampire-like behavior.
> 
> Go gang – motorcycle gang.
> 
> Witsec- Witness protection
> 
> Soycaf- Coffee substitute.
> 
> Coffin motel – small coffin size cubicles containing just a bed.
> 
> APC- Armored Personal Carrier - aka City Master
> 
> Vindicator – mini-gun, a hard mounted gun like a Gatlin gun.
> 
> Trid- Trideo – 3D T.V.
> 
> Razor – slang term for a street samurai
> 
> Scan- see

Ch. 6

"That which does not kill me is dead when I'm through with it."~ Lobo – Street samurai

Ezra dropped Mask off at the airport with a kiss and a promise to call. Arriving back at the safe house with Chinese take-out he was mobbed by the others, who snatched the bags of food out of his hands as if they hadn't eaten in days.

M7M7M7

Carletti kicked in the door and burst into the room, he cursed to find it empty. Somehow the bitch had known they were coming. He whirled and stalked out of the abandoned house. "Gone," he growled to the rest of his team.

"Louis, got word from Franco. Der's anoter team looking for da slitch and de kid. He said the boss wants us to take dem out. Only one problem; it's Lobo's team."

Louis stopped in his tracks and turned to Joey. "What did you say? Whose team?"

"Lobo's," the orc answered.

The steady stream of curses went on for what seemed like hours.

Joey almost smiled, but all he could think was that Louis was right. They truly were caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, and he wasn't sure which was which, between the boss and Lobo. Don't get the slitch and kid, and the boss would kill 'em. Catch them, and Lobo would kill 'em. Hell, Witsec was looking better all the time.

M7M7M7

JD jacked out with a smile. "Lobo! I need ya," he called.

"Coming."

JD puttered around while he waited, straightening his desk. Unlike many deckers' work areas, he prided himself on keeping his pristine; every cable bundled, every tool neatly put away when not in use, no food or drink allowed within ten feet of his desk.

It didn't take long for Chris to enter the room, two steaming cups of soycaf in his hands. He set them both down on the table by the door. "Ok, what'd ya got?"

"I set up a bunch of smarts before we left for the mountains and one of them found something." JD handed Chris a grainy holo of a woman and child.

Chris walked over to take the picture. "Where was this?"

"Purgatorio."

"Get the boys."

JD nodded and grabbed the coffee before heading down the hall to the kitchen.

"Ezra?" He stopped next to the table, but the shaman didn't even look up. Ezra simply poured another shot and tossed it back. "You ok?"

Ezra flashed him a brilliant smile. "Never better, JD. Am I to conclude that we have a direction for our inquiries?" He poured a second shot and passed it to JD.

JD chuckled as he sat down and took the drink with a nod. "If you mean do we have a lead, then yeah. Found a pic of the slitch that nabbed the kid out in Purgatorio." He toyed with the shot glass for a moment, then poured the whiskey into his cup of coffee and took an appreciative sip.

Ezra groaned. "Dear Lord Almighty, did it have to be that misbegotten, God-forsaken, pestilent hell hole? Why is it, my friend that every miscreant we have the misfortune of dealing with runs straight into the worst war zone west of the Mississippi? Could not even one of them have the good taste to book into the Ritz rather than some seedy coffin motel?" He scowled, "I implore you, is that asking too much?"

Buck flopped down in a seat next to Ezra and stared at him for a moment. "Bitch, bitch, bitch. Damn, Ezra, next thing you know you'll wanna be on top."

Ezra abruptly stopped his tirade and ran an assessing eye over Buck's tall frame. "Why, Buck," he drawled with a sly wink. "Are you offering to bottom?"

JD spewed out the mouthful of coffee he had just taken while Buck stared at Ezra in shock. "Uh… umm…"

Ezra leaned in close and ran a finger along Buck's jaw, "What's wrong, Bucklin? Cat got yer tongue?" He gave Buck a slow, sexy grin.

Buck shot him a horrified look and batted his hand away. He jumped up like he'd been shocked and headed for the door.

Ezra called out, "I guess this means our date is off?"

JD burst out laughing. "Damn, Ezra, that was evil," he said admiringly.

"He started it," Ezra smirked.

M7M7M7

Chris strode into the garage area and leaned over the rail. "JD, get the City Master ready. Make sure you have your drones and all your decking stuff too."

JD rolled out from under the APC. He wiped his greasy hands on a rag and sat up. "You got it, Chris. I take it we won't be back here for awhile?"

"No, we won't, so make sure you have all yer toys. Did you get that extra armor installed like you wanted? And did you get that Vindicator mounted?"

JD grinned. "Yep. Wait'll ya see it, Chris," he jumped to his feet and bounced on his toes. "This ol' girl's gonna be hell on wheels." He patted the big APC fondly.

"Good job. We may need it." Chris headed back into the house to get the rest of the team ready.

M7M7M7

Purgatorio- even the name conjured up images of the hellhole the zone had become; burnt out, rusted warehouses, junked vehicles, and piles of trash littered the zone. At night the ghouls came out, and the only safe havens where indoors. Not even the Star came in without full riot gear and a squad of SWAT to back them up, and Doc Wagon had a provision of non-support for the whole district. The zone was in a constant state of flux and war as go gangs and bands of ghouls battled over turf, and survival was problematic.

JD guided the Citymaster down the streets, one drone scouting ahead, and the other flying high cover. He snorted contemptuously when a go gang had the collective stupidity to attack them. He triggered the drop bucket and scattered caltrops and oil behind them. It was all over in seconds. What the caltrops didn't get, the oil slick did and the go gang went down, bikes and bodies littering the street behind them. JD threaded the narrow, clogged streets with casual ease until they arrived at the safe house, their headquarters for the foreseeable future.

M7M7M7

"Vin, I want you and 'Siah to check out the hotel. See what you can get from the clerk." Chris sank down into his office chair.

"All right."

"And Falcon? Watch yer back."

Vin shot him a cocky grin. "Always do."

Chris rolled his eyes and grinned back.

M7M7M7

The Four Corners motel was old when the Treaty of Denver was signed in 2018, but now it was ancient. The rundown buildings sheltered whores, junkies, gangers and other assorted lowlifes. Vin's nose wrinkled at the sour smell of the lobby, and the worse smell of the troll clerk. He set a cred stick on the edge of the counter. "Need a room. 215."

The clerk scratched himself and handed him a keycard without even looking away from the Urban Brawl game on the trid.

Vin turned away and walked out the door. He quickly crossed the lot to the car where Josiah waited. He drove around the building, carefully maneuvering around the potholes and burnt-out, rusted cars that littered the parking lot. Once he found 215 he parked next to the stairs. "You wanna do some recon 'fore we go up, Prophet?"

"Yes, considering this area, that, as Ace would say, would be prudent." The two exchanged a grin.

Josiah leaned against the car door, and stepped out of his body into the astral. In the distance he noted furtive movement, but it wasn't close enough to be a threat so he dismissed it. Other than inside a few of the rooms, nothing moved nearby. He slipped back into his body and nodded. "All clear for now. Let's head upstairs."

They stepped out of the car, ascended the stairs, and quickly moved down the walkway. Vin slotted the keycard, and they stepped into the room. The late afternoon sun did nothing to improve the squalor of the place. Tattered carpet left from the beginning of the century crunched underfoot, and a sagging bed and dilapidated furniture lined the walls that were painted with the most hideous color Vin had ever seen. The smell of old smoke clung to the curtain, adding an under note to the mildew in the bathroom. Vin gagged at the stench. "Damn, sometimes enhanced senses suck! That poor kid…" He stopped, unable to complete the thought.

Prophet laid a hand on his shoulder. "We will find him and bring him home, but God help the woman who took him when Lobo and Ace get their hands on her."

Vin nodded. "Yeah, gonna get ugly." He shook off the thought. "Let's get to work, and see if we can find anything."

While Vin searched the room with mundane methods, Josiah called up a hearth spirit. It was as shabby as the buildings it called home, but was informative and now they had a name to go with the face- Margaret.

Vin gave the room one last cursory look, and stepped out of the door onto the landing. Every hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood up, and he was moving without thought. He crashed into Prophet, taking him to the ground. He heard the crack of the sniper round and his shoulder went numb as the round impacted his armored jacket.

Two more rounds smacked into the concrete by his face, and the shards stung his face and hands. He crawled frantically, for the stairs dragging Josiah along behind him. He screamed as a round ripped through his leg, and he knew he wouldn't be able to put any weight on it. He desperately tried to get the pain under control. "Prophet! You hit?" He rolled over only to find Prophet unconscious, blood pouring from a head wound. He prayed it was from the takedown, not a bullet, but at the moment he didn't have the leisure to check. It was up to him to get them clear.

The stairwell gave them a measure of cover, not ideal, but enough to try and locate the sniper. He dragged Prophet down with him and they huddled against the wall. Vin fumbled at his waist pack, and dug through it until he found two trauma patches. He slapped one on his leg, and the other on Josiah's head wound. The blood slowed to a trickle as the patch took effect. Prophet groaned and tried to pull away from Falcon's embrace. "Stay still. We're under fire."

Obediently, Josiah stopped moving. "Falcon, you ok?"

"No, I'm hit. One in the calf."

Josiah frowned, "You've been hit twice. There's another one through your hip." He reached out and fingered the hole in Vin's jacket. "Shit, he's using armor piercing rounds! Son of a bitch! We're in trouble, Falcon."

"Fuck, didn't even feel the second one."

Josiah chuckled "Let's hear it for adrenaline. Ok, watch my meat, and I'll go try and pinpoint that sniper." He gave Vin a grin, and leaped into the astral. He moved with the speed of thought, searching the nearby structures for the one who had them pinned. An aura flared, catching his attention, and he knew he had the man. He returned to his body and called his fire elemental, giving it a command to take him out. Hellfire and brimstone rained down and the sniper's screams pierced the gathering gloom.

Vin flinched as the screams echoed off the building. "Damn, Prophet, remind me never to piss you off."

Josiah grinned ferally. "Carpe Jugulum, Vin. Hurt my brothers, and die."

M7M7M7

Frank jerked back in horror as his cousin went up in flames. His screams over the comlink sent chills down the spotter's spine. He knew that if he was going to survive this he needed to get away unseen. He low crawled across the roof and slipped in the half opened door. He didn't draw a full breath until he got back to the car and pulled away. He pounded the steering wheel in frustrated rage and grief; the boss was going to be very unhappy. He pulled over, and with a grimace, turned the car around and headed back. "No way, you're not gonna get away with this," he growled under his breath. He pulled his Predator out of the holster, and as he drove back by the motel he spotted the two Shadowrunners crossing the parking lot, and opened fire. The first round hit the mage, and he went down in a shower of blood. Frank kept pulling the trigger until the gun clicked empty, then he floored it and fishtailed out of the lot and onto the road. He never felt the armor piercing round that hit the back of his skull, exited between his eyes and shattered the windshield.

Vin tossed his rifle back into the back seat of the car and frantically tried to stabilize Josiah. After applying a trauma patch he staggered to the car half dragging, half carrying the dwarf. He laid Josiah's shoulders in the back seat and went around to the other side, then grabbed the mage under the arms and dragged him the rest of the way into the car.

He knew there was a possibility that they would be followed, but with Prophet down it was a chance they would have to take, so he headed back to the safe house. He was in no condition for another firefight, and he knew if he didn't get help soon his friend could die. He flexed hands covered in blood and prayed. His vision grayed in and out, and he grimaced as he felt his blood flowing down his leg into his socks. Darkness closed in and he couldn't hold it at bay any longer. The car crashed into a junked heap at the corner of their street, and ground to a halt.

M7M7M7

Ezra's head snapped up as the little watcher spirit he had patrolling their block streaked into the room screaming at the top of its lungs and at a million miles a minute.

"Hurt hurt hurt Foxy man Falcon hurt bad bad bad come come come Prophet hurt hurt hurt come come come now hurry!" 

He launched himself out of his chair, and hit the stairs at a dead run heading for the garage following the spirit. "LOBO!" he yelled into the comlink. "Prophet and Falcon are in trouble!" He grabbed the railing and jumped, clearing a full landing, and then sprinted out the door to the large bay.

Ezra threw himself on one of the bikes, and hit the door remote. Revving the engine, he shot out into the street and laid the bike into a low turn, his knee brushing the pavement before straightening. Ahead he saw the car smoking and furtive movement around it. He hit the horn and goosed the engine to a loud whine. Behind him he heard the full-throated roar of Chris and Buck's Harleys and the whine of JD and Nathan's Yamahas. He slid to a stop next to the car, and with a flinging motion sent a wave of pure mana crashing over the ghouls on the other side of the car. One of them screeched and crumpled to the pavement, and the others scattered. Ezra wrenched open the door and dragged Vin into the street, and then went back for Josiah. Chris joined him, and they pulled the dwarf from the back seat just as the engine fire flared to life with a dull kawump.

Nathan pushed him aside, and fell to his knees next to the two men. "Ferret, go get transport. We need to get them back to the house," he commanded. He removed the trauma patches while Ezra cast a heal spell on each of them. The rest could wait until they were safe.

It only took a few minutes for JD to bring the City Master, and they loaded their injured teammates into it, abandoning the car to the denizens of the night.

M7M7M7

Vin opened his eyes and blinked blearily. His body ached in so many places he wasn't sure where to start categorizing. He bit back a groan as he shifted, struggling to sit up; searching the darkness for Josiah. "Prophet?" he whispered urgently.

"Easy, Vin," a voice whispered in the dark. A hand brushed his hair back and rested on his forehead. "You're safe, and Josiah's still alive." Real names; he slumped in relief. He had made it back, and somehow the voice knew what he needed most. He clutched that knowledge to his heart and drifted back to sleep, content to give watch over his friend to the others.

M7M7M7

Josiah opened his eyes in response to the steady stream of curses, counting at least six languages: Sioux, Kiowa, Comanche, Spanish, English, Sperethiel… Sperethiel? Huh, who knew the elves could be so… descriptive? He chuckled, "Ya know, for someone so quiet, you sure can cuss Vin."

"Fuck you, Prophet! Damn it, Nathan, that hurts, quit it!"

Nathan smacked Vin's hand away. "It has to be cleaned out. Now lie still, or I will sedate you!" Nathan growled.

Vin cussed again. Josiah laughed. "Damn, Vin. How many languages do you know?"

"Laugh it up, preacher man. You're next!" Vin snarled. Then he laughed when Josiah swore.

M7M7M7

"They were waiting for us, Chris." Vin scratched his healing leg. "Had to be. Sniper was already in position when we walked out on the landing. Second attack was probably from his spotter."

"Is this another team, or just random?" Chris mused.

"And are they going to try again?" Buck added.

Ezra sat forward. "Gentlemen, you are forgetting the most important question."

Chris frowned. "Which is?"

"Is the target just Vin and Josiah, or the whole team? Because, I assure you, the answer to that changes the entire equation," Ezra stated.

"Good point. Ok, to be safe we're going to assume the whole team is the target, and that we're dealing with a team. Nobody goes out alone, and watch your six!" Chris ordered.

"On the plus side," Josiah smiled, "we have the kidnappers name- Margaret- and we have enough samples to try and do another ritual to find them. Only this time I'm not going after Billy. I'm going after her. Brothers, I think she just got sloppy."

M7M7M7

Josiah pushed open the door to the small office and entered without knocking. "We got her." He scooted over to make room for Ezra.

Chris looked up from the desk, and settled back in his chair with a cold smile. "Confirmed?"

"Yes, indeed. I had a watcher follow the trail. She is there with the boy right now," Ezra said

"Let's go."

M7M7M7

Hunter sidled up behind Bert, and laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. The rat shaman jumped and turned his back to the wall, his thin features twisting into a snarl. Hunter followed, crowding the smaller man into a corner. "If she catches you looking at that kid like that again, she's gonna have your fuckin' balls in a vice. And if you touch him, I'll kill you myself. You got that, ya freak?"

Bert nodded. "I didn't do nothing," he squeaked.

Hunter slammed him back into the wall. "Make sure that you don't. You don't go near him, you don't look at him, you just do yer damn job, ya scan?"

Bert shivered at the promise in the razor's eyes. He ducked his head. "Yeah, yeah, I got it."

Hunter threw him down the hall to the open bay. "Don't let me catch you back down here again." He turned, and walked away, missing the look of savage hatred the shaman shot him.

"Oh, you won't catch me again, fer sure." Bert whispered.

Archangel stopped Hunter as he walked by. He jerked his chin back toward the rat shaman. "He gonna be a problem?"

Hunter glanced back over his shoulder. "Probably. Keep an eye on him, and whatever you do, don't turn yer back on him."

Archangel shuddered. "Not bloody likely, mate," he snorted. "The others are waiting for ya. You think the Seventh is gonna hit tonight?"

Hunter shrugged. "Never know what Lobo is gonna do. That's why the Seventh is so fucking good. I tried to tell her, but she ain't listenin'. We never should've taken this damn job, Angel," he said bleakly.

"Yeah, well, we're stuck. We took her yen. We leave now and there goes our rep. Gonna have to play it out and hope we survive," Angel replied fatalistically. "Well…" He glanced back at Bert, "most of us at least. One way or another, that little prick is going down."

M7M7M7

Louis lifted his aching head and stared blearily at his fellow mobster. "Please, tell me you found her."

Joey smiled, "We found 'er. She's holded up in a warehouse over in Purgatorio. Got a shadow team wit' her- Skid Row- Hunter's bunch. "

Louis frowned. "Huh, they don't usually do jobs like this. How'd they get hooked up with Margaret?"

"Word is der last run was hosed. Dey lost half the team, so I guess dey need da yen." He shrugged.

"Yeah? Well, they can just get out of the way, or lose the other half," Louis snarled. "I am tired of fucking around with this bitch."

M7M7M7

"He's pacing again," Isack said lazily.

Archangel glanced over at his cousin. Hunter was running his hand through his short, red hair as he walked, leaving it standing on end as if he was in the middle of a lightning storm. He snorted. It felt like the beginning of a storm. Something was going to go down tonight- he could feel it in his bones. "When Hunter paces, you best be ready for what's coming. Go get geared up," he ordered.

The twins, Smoke and Fire, exchanged glances, and obeyed the order.

Isack just waved a hand and went back to his game.

Angel smacked the game from his hand, and dragged him to his feet by his collar. "I told you to gear up," he snarled.

"Fine, fat lot of good I'll do ya though." Isack shook off his hands and slipped on his armored jacket. "There. Satisfied?"

"Not by a long shot, but it will have to do. Anybody seen Bert?"

Smoke spoke up. "Last time I saw him, he was checking the perimeter. Want us to go find him?"

Angel thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, you better. Make sure he ain't anywhere near that kid."

Smoke nodded. "Yeah, that rat is one sick fragger."

"You two, watch yer six."

"Always. Let's go, Fire."

M7M7M7

Dead air was the first indication that it had started, followed by Fire's wail as his twin went down. The crack of a sniper rifle sounded and the wail was cut short.

Hunter lunged for the doorway. "Angel, yer with me!" The two men ran down the hall to the office where Billy was staying. They burst through the door to find the child gone and Margaret's lifeless body on the floor with her throat cut. Angel slipped on the blood pool, and went down to his knees. Hunter swore, recognizing the rat shaman's handiwork, and dragged his cousin up by the back of his jacket. They bolted back down the hallway, heading for the perimeter. Angel snagged Hunter just before they reached the open bay, and pulled him down to the floor. He flinched as a round slammed into the wall where his head had just been. Their forward momentum propelled both samurai into the bay, leaving them in the open.

Hunter screamed as the first round penetrated his jacket. He rolled, frantically searching for some form of cover. Angel rolled the other way, also looking for a place to hunker down. Wired reflexes kicked in, and Hunter scrambled to his feet. He sprinted for cover, drawing the attention of the shooters. His body jerked as more rounds hit him, but his pain suppressor kicked in and he kept going. He caught a brief glimpse of one of the gunmen; short black hair slicked back, a narrow face with an impressive nose. "Shit, that's Carletti!" He gasped. "Angel, move! Get to cover now!"

As Hunter skidded to a halt behind one of the vehicles he got another look at Carletti, Bert joined him, one hand firmly grasping the child's collar. Hunter growled in frustration as they disappeared out the back door, but the crossfire kept him from pursuing them. He turned back as Angel screamed in pain. "Hang on, Angel, I'm coming." 

"Get the kid!" Angel urged. "Forget me, and go after them!"

"Angel, shut the fuck up. I can't get to them right now. We have to survive. Afterward we will worry about the kid. You got any cover?"

"Yeah, now I do. I'm down in the oil bay." 

"Ok, stay put and I'll get to you. Fire and Smoke are down, pretty sure they're dead. Isack?" He cursed when there was no answer from the decker. " 'Kay, sounds like it's just you and me, bro. How bad are you hit?"

"Got hit three, maybe four times, none that bad that I can see." Archangel's voice was heavy with pain. "You?"

"At least two. Not sure. Pain suppressor's kicked in." 

His cousin chuckled. "Well, let's try and avoid any more, 'cause this sucks."

Slowly the sound of gunfire tapered off and silence settled over the warehouse. "Hunter?" Angel waited a minute for Hunter, but when he got no answer to his query he cautiously emerged from the bay, and made his way shakily over to where his cousin lay. Hunter was sprawled unconscious behind one of the vehicles in a slowly growing pool of blood. Angel dragged him back into the hallway looking for a more defensible spot. Finally he had to stop and regroup. He sat down heavily and applied trauma patches to both of them. He shut his eyes, telling himself he would just rest for a moment. Then slowly he felt his grasp on consciousness fade, and he fell over next to Hunter.

M7M7M7

"Damn it!" Chris swore. He picked his way through the detritus of the battle. He knew when he saw the woman's corpse that Billy would be gone as well.

"Seems like an awful lot of trouble to go through for one lil' kid, don't it?" Vin asked.

"Ah, but please do recall, Falcon, that said child is the grandson of a prominent judge. Control the boy, control the bench," Ezra theorized.

"Lobo, we got a couple of survivors over here and you're gonna wanna talk to em. It's Hunter and Archangel from Skid Row." Buck subvocalized. "And bring Ace or Prophet. These two have more holes in 'em than Swiss cheese."

"Coming." Chris motioned Ezra to precede him and they made their way to the back room and through a concealed door to a long hallway.

At the end of the passage Buck crouched next to two men. He was speaking softly to one of them as the others approached. He glanced up, and made way for Ezra and Chris.

Chris squatted down next to Hunter while Ezra cast his heal spells. "Hey, Hunter. Looks like yer having a bad day there, omea."

Hunter laughed, his smile more than half grimace as pain shot through his side. "Damn, don't make me laugh, Lobo. Gotta say, I'm glad it wasn't you." He reached out and clasped Chris's arm with a bloodied hand. "Lobo, you gotta go get that kid back. Carletti's the one who took him, and you know what that means."

"Shit! Carletti's one of D'Agostino's hitters." Chris sat back on his heels. "That puts a whole new perspective on this thing."

"Yeah, you could say that. You gotta watch out for that fucking rat shaman Bert too. He killed Margaret, and turned the kid over to Carletti."

Ezra snarled. "Rat shaman?" He wrinkled his nose. "I do so detest rodents."

"Yeah, me too, and this guy is one sick scumbag. The way he looked at that kid made my skin crawl. I tried to keep him away, but he got by us." Hunter grinned as Ezra's green eyes flashed with primal fury. Bert didn't know it, but from the look on the fox shaman's face, the rat was a dead man walking. His only regret was that he wouldn't be the one to pull the trigger.

Chris laid a calming hand on the shaman's shoulder. "We'll get him, but right now you and Angel need a doctor. DT knows a street doc and he and Ferret are going to get you two over there. We'll meet up with ya when this is over."

"Appreciate it, Lobo. We owe ya one. You ever need backup, you call," Hunter promised.

Chris nodded and walked away, grinning at his shaman's subvocalized muttering as to the probable ancestry and certain future of the rat shaman.


	7. "That which does not kill us might have friends who will." ~ Stud – Street samurai

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buzzers : small programs that induce a feeling of drunkenness or euphoria in a decker. 
> 
> Mo cara ~ my friend
> 
> Widdershins ~ to take a course opposite the apparent motion of the sun, to go counterclockwise or lefthandwise, or to circle an object by always keeping it on the left Considered unlucky or evil. 
> 
> Tres Chic ~ a clothing line of high fashion clothing. Similar to Armani. 
> 
> Devil Rats ~ the Awakened form of the common rat (Rattus norvegicus), and have become the scourge of Urban areas. They resemble pale, wrinkled, and hairless rats that grow up to a meter in length (including the tail). Like their progenitors, they are very adaptable, living whereever metahumans can live, and often carry diseases. 
> 
> Razor ~ slang term for a street samurai. 
> 
> Five by five ~ a radio communications expression that means 'loud and clear' or everything is ok.
> 
> Stim patch~ a slap patch that delivers a stimulate.

Ch. 7 ~ 

"That which does not kill us might have friends who will." ~ Stud – Street samurai

"Ferret, once you and DT get Hunter and Archangel to the street doc, I need you to get me everything you can find on Paulo D'Agostino. We are gonna need blueprints of that mansion of his. I'll bet now that he has his hands on Billy that's where he will take him." Chris ran a hand through his hair as he paced.

JD nodded. "You got it. DT, you're with me."

Chris and Nathan exchanged a grin at the decker's subconscious tone of command. Nathan gave a salute and followed his teammate out.

"Prophet, you and Ace see if you can trace the kid."

"Ok, but Lobo you gotta know D'Agostino is gonna have mages, watchers and wards. We may not be able to get very close without setting off all kinds of alerts," Prophet warned.

"Just do what ya can. Falcon, I need you to watch over Ace and Prophet. Stud, let's see what we can run down on the street."

Ezra laid a hand on Chris's arm. "Lobo, how did they know the woman had Billy? Could it be that she was hired to take the child? And if so why did she conceal him from the Don? There has to be more going on here."

"Good point." Chris frowned. "Ferret? Did you hear all that?"

"Yeah I got it. I'll add a search on Margaret and see if she's connected to D'Agostino somehow," Ferret acknowledged.

"Good. We'll all meet back at the house in a couple hours. Everyone watch yer six."

M7M7M7

Having left Hunter and Archangel at the street doc's clinic Nathan and JD slipped through the shadows back to the car.

"I'm glad we didn't have to kill them." He slid into the passenger seat and turned to face his teammate.

JD hopped in and started the car. "Yeah, me too. You know 'em well?"

Nathan shook his head. "Just by reputation. But Hunter tends to side with the angels," he laughed. "And not just his partner."

JD snickered. "I know what ya mean. Careful with the jobs he chooses, like Lobo. Makes ya wonder what kinda story that bitch told him to make him accept this run."

"I asked Angel that and he said she gave 'em some sob story about running from an abusive father. He also told me her full name. Margaret Sandoval."

JD grinned. "Good that will make running her information down a lot easier."

M7M7M7

Ferret tipped his bowler hat to the clerk in the Hall of Public Records, and paid his fee. He went back to his assigned cubicle and started his search. After what felt like hours he sat back with a frown, his whiskers twitching in agitation. He read the notice again, 404 File not found. He pondered that for a minute and tried a different search parameter. When that one also came up empty he closed down the search engine and rose to his feet. He sauntered out the front door and mounted up, watching carefully to see if he was being followed. He breathed a bit easier when he seemed to be in the clear. With the speed of thought he slipped back into the data stream and headed to a cyber café. He grinned. There is more than one way to skin a cat.

He settled down at the café and ordered two buzzers. While he waited for his order, he sent out his dogs to search for information on Margaret. The buzzers appeared on his table just as he finished. He sipped at one and put the other at the place opposite him, a mute invitation. While giving the feel of a drink he knew the buzzer would wear off the moment he jacked out, or canceled the effects so he sat back to enjoy his "beer".

"Hoi, Ferret." A sweet childlike voice echoed as if from a well. The small icon of a fairy danced in the air by his table.

JD smiled. "Hoi, Sylph. Long time no see. Join me?"

Sylph grinned and drifted into the seat growing in size until she fit. She reached out and took the buzzer, taking a deep pull while she studied her companion. "What you need Ferret?"

Always to the point, which was one thing he found so refreshing about dealing with the other decker. "I need the name of the architect who designed a certain building."

She arched a delicate eyebrow and pursed her lips. "That I may know. How much are you offering?"

"One k for the name. Five k if you have blueprints."

"And the target?"

He glanced around the room before he jotted down the name and passed it to her. D'Agostino. 

She drew in her breath sharply. "You aim high, mo cara." She tore the note into small shreds, tossed them up in the air and watched them disappear. "The name I have, but not the prints. It is said that he is eccentric and prefers hard copy." She wrote down a name and passed the file to him. Then she handed him her cred stick and watched as he transferred the yen to her account. "Thanks mo cara. Ferret, watch your back, your target is all widdershins. He is twisted and likes to hurt people," she warned.

He reached across the table and took her hand. "No worries. You know they watch my back." He smiled reassuringly.

She shook her head as he jacked out.

M7M7M7

Ezra and Josiah drifted just outside the perimeter to the D'Agostino mansion and studied the astral defenses. They exchanged grim glances as a patrol of fire elementals and hellhounds rounded the corner and paced along the fence. The two edged deeper into the shadows of the building they took shelter in. The last thing they needed at this point was to be spotted. Josiah's eyes narrowed. "Look at the ivy."

Ezra smirked. "Living walls. You think mayhap Mr. D'Agostino wishes to keep out prying eyes? However, they always seem to forget that they are vulnerable from below." He chuckled evilly.

Josiah grinned. "The sewers?"

"Indeed. Although I must admit that it is a decidedly unpleasant avenue, at least when we are in the astral we are immune to the malodorous environment." He gestured for Josiah to lead the way. "Shall we?"

The two sank through the concrete to the tunnels below. Even there life was present, glowing in the astral so they had enough light to see ahead.

Josiah snickered as his dapper colleague's astral form nimbly dodged a floating piece of debris.

"May I inquire what the source of your amusement is?"

"Hell Ace, it just occurred to me that only you would take a stroll down a sewer dressed in tres chic."

Ezra glanced down at his suit and then over at his friend. In the astral Prophet stood taller than his real world body. He was dressed in high-waisted pants and a striped poncho and on his head perched what Ezra could only assume was a cowboy hat of some kind. "I see no reason why one should eschew the finer things in life when one has the opportunity to indulge in them."

"Ace, need I remind you this is your astral form? Good lord man don't you ever relax?"

"I assure you my dear Prophet I am quite relaxed."

Josiah snorted. "Then why the suit?"

Ezra arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow. "Appearances sir, are everything,"

M7M7M7

A plan began to form with each piece of intel his men brought him. That was until Vin showed up in his room looking… fidgety.

Chris cocked an eyebrow and sat back in his chair. He waited patiently for the sniper to explain why he was prowling around Chris' room like some overgrown cat.

Vin wandered around the room picking things up and then putting them back down.

"Something on your mind Vin?"

He twitched for a second trying to decide how best to approach his feelings. "Ya remember when I told you I have combat sense? Well, I think it's acting up. It's like every time I start thinking about storming that place my skin starts fucking tingling. Something is just off about this Chris. I can't explain it but …" he paused and brushed a hand through his hair.

"You think it might be a trap?"

Vin stopped pacing and thought hard. "Maybe? Or maybe we're just looking at the wrong target. I mean have we confirmed the kid is in there?"

Chris thought about it for a minute. "No, we haven't. Shit… damn rookie mistake." He shook his head. "Ferret, get Ace and Prophet back here."

"Will do."

Vin leaned against the wall and relaxed for the first time since they had found Hunter and Archangel. He heaved a sigh of relief as his skin stopped twitching. He nodded at Chris. "Yep, that was the problem."

Chris frowned. "If they didn't take Billy to the mansion where the fuck would they take him?"

Vin shrugged. "Another safe house that isn't in his name? I mean that's what I would do. D'Agostino is pretty cagey, and they have never been able to pin anything on him cause of it."

JD cut in on the conversation "Lobo? Got a hold of DT, he says Prophet and Ace are astral right now but as soon as they get back they'll all head back."

"Thanks, Ferret."

M7M7M7

The seven men sat around the table and thought about what Vin and Chris had speculated.

Josiah frowned. "What if…" he paused and glanced over at Ezra. "Did you happen to notice the astral signature of that shaman?"

Ezra snarled. "Indeed, I did. Foul nasty piece of work. We can track him rather than Billy."

Chris grinned. "Go to it, boys."

M7M7M7

Bert twitched. The feeling of being watched had grown steadily over the last few hours. He glanced over at the child but flinched away as he met Carletti's impassive gaze. The shaman knew Carletti would kill him without remorse or even very much thought so he moved away to the edge of the light and sat down against the wall. He called a rat, and absently petted it, amusing himself with thoughts of how he could take out the hit team and take the child for himself. Bert knew he would never have the courage to do it but still he giggled insanely to think of Carletti spread out, his guts being devoured by devil rats. The twitchy feeling was building again and he jumped up pacing back and forth snarling in frustration at the men that were all that stood between him and the object of his desire. He was so focused on them that he completely missed the watcher that came and left.

M7M7M7

Buck crept up to the door of the warehouse where Carletti and his men had gone to ground and wired the explosives to it. It was enough to be an attention-getter without seriously damaging the building, more of a poor man's flash bang than anything. The last thing they wanted to do was put the boy in danger. "Explosives in place. Starting retreat now."

"Hooah. Squelch when you're out of range. Ferret, cut the power on my mark." Chris ordered.

"Squelch," Buck said when he reached a safe distance.

"Mark." 

The entire block plunged into darkness. It was then lit up again as the door was blown open.

Ezra and Vin stood silently on the roof waiting for the signal. Ezra adjusted his repelling gear yet again, attempting to get it to lie more smoothly around his waist. Vin shot his partner a slight grin, as he noticed him fidgeting with the harness. As soon as they heard the explosives go off both men jumped, the lines playing out behind them with a soft hiss. They hit the upper windows with both feet knocking out the glass, trusting the sound of breaking glass would be drowned out by the roaring in the target's ears. Both men landed lightly on the catwalk and disengaged from their harnesses. They retracted the line and quickly ran to the corner where a ladder down was bolted to the wall. Vin gave Ezra a quick salute as the shaman cast a bullet barrier around himself and headed down the ladder. The phys ad settled down on the catwalk and quickly assembled his rifle before turning down the gain on his night vision goggles so he wouldn't be blinded by any flash bangs.

Josiah cast his bullet barrier and nodded to Chris. They stepped through the side door and cautiously moved deeper into the warehouse.

Buck and Nathan dashed toward the front door and slipped through. They scanned the area for any enemies. With none in sight they darted for cover.

Carletti shook his head trying to clear it. The sudden darkness and then flash of the explosion disoriented him for several seconds. His ears ached from the sudden concussion and he clutched the child to his side. As the roar faded he heard the boy screaming in fear. He shook the kid and pushed him under a desk. "Lay down and cover your head! Stay here. Don't move and don't make a sound!" He waited a moment until he was obeyed then he ran for the doorway. He took a quick look around searching for Fagetti and Joey, hell even Bert, but he couldn't spot anyone in the darkness. A muzzle flash to his left gave him a clue which way to go and he moved that way cautiously keeping to cover as much as possible. He found Fagetti crouched behind a stack of boxes. The hit man was peering around the corner straining to see through the gloom.

From his high cover Vin was able to get a bird's eye view of the warehouse. He could see at least six of the enemy and relayed their positions to his team. He scanned the area looking for the rest of the hit team and Billy. He didn't see the boy anywhere but Ezra's watcher had confirmed the child was on site when they approached the building.

Bert slinked through the shadows in the back of the warehouse silently making his way to the small office where Carletti had left the boy. He eased the door open and slipped through with a feral grin. He couldn't believe his luck when he discovered the small room was empty except for Billy. "Hello little one," he snickered. He dragged the child out from under the desk by his hair and sent him into unconsciousness with a quick sharp blow to the back of his skull. He slung the boy over his shoulder and stepped back into the warehouse, moving quickly away from the firefight.

A furtive motion in the shadows along the back caught Vin's attention but the angle was wrong for a shot. He cursed as he realized that the figure had the child they had come to rescue over one shoulder. "Ace, target moving away to the rear exit. He has the boy."

"On it." Ezra snarled. He sprinted down the aisle heading for the rear exit. 'Fox forgive me, I have no time for subtlety,' he prayed. He rounded the corner and skidded to a halt. The rat shaman crouched in a corner with Billy clutched in front of him as a shield. He held a knife to the boy's throat and the insanity in his eyes let Ezra know he would not hesitate to kill the child. Ezra held his hands away from his body as he moved closer.

"Make another move and I will slit his throat." Bert snapped. Billy's head lolled, his small body limp and only supported by the punishing grip that held him tight against the shaman's chest.

Ezra froze in place and studied his opponent. His eyes narrowed as he considered his options. The rat shaman had wedged his slight frame into a corner between the wall and a pallet of crates. "We seem to be at an impasse, rat."

Bert cackled and shifted slightly as he cast.

Ezra stiffened as he felt phantom claws grasp his shoulders and what felt like teeth snap at his neck. He redirected his power to strengthen the shields protecting his neck even as the claws gouged furrows down his back. He allowed a flash of pain to cross his face as he prepared his own spell.

Bert laughed as the scent of blood filled the air. "Come my pets, I have a feast for you," he hissed. A furtive skittering sounded in the crates and Bert's eyes filled with satisfaction as a horde of rats poured out of the crates and clustered at his feet.

Fagetti snapped off a shot at the Razor that showed briefly in his sites. He smiled at the fine mist of blood that filled the air as the body fell back against a crate and slid out of sight.

Buck slipped down behind the crate and gasped as the agony of a high powered round ripping through his armored jacket and into his shoulder overrode his pain suppressor. He lay on the floor gasping for breath. "I'm hit," he choked out.

JD rolled under a pallet to conceal himself and pulled out two of his drones. He jacked in and sent them out to scan the area. The tactical computers embedded in each drone sent back a constant stream of information that he in turn relayed to his team. He ruthlessly suppressed the urge to go to Buck's assistance when his friend called out his status. He sent the crawler scurrying under shelves and pallets searching for the enemy. The hover drone he sent up high into the shadows of the rafters searching for a target.

Vin took a deep breath and gently squeezed the trigger. Shards of skull and brain matter embedded themselves in the crate as the man in his crosshairs head exploded. He moved a bare inch, and lined up another shot. He flinched as a return round ricocheted off the catwalk.

Chris turned toward the muzzle flash on his left. His cyber eyes adjusted to the gloom and zoomed in on his target. He waited until the man popped out again to shoot up at the catwalk and he squeezed the trigger. He smiled as the man dropped to the ground with a scream. "Falcon, report."

"Five by five, Lobo. Target 15 feet on your 2 o'clock." 

"Hooah." Chris dropped to the floor and low crawled across the aisle to the cover of a stack of boxes.

Nathan darted from cover to cover heading for Buck. He skidded in the spreading blood pool surrounding the samurai and dropped to his knees, frantically digging in his med pack for a slap patch. He pulled one out and ripped it open with his teeth. A quick swipe with a gauze pad cleared the wound of blood enough to allow the patch to stick. "Damn it, Stud, what did I tell ya about ducking?" he groused.

Buck gagged at the taste of DMSO in the back of his throat. His eyes grew wide and he fired his pistol at the man running toward them. The mobster crashed to the ground his eyes dimming as he died.

Nathan shook his head, ears ringing and glared at Buck. "I am so buying you a silencer for Christmas."

Josiah concentrated, steadfastly ignoring the firefight around him while he chanted in Gaelic. With the final word he called his elementals and gave them their commands, sending them out to fight.

Frankie knelt behind what little cover he could find and strained to see in the dim light. He searched for a target and wondered how many they were facing, cursing under his breath as he remembered the sight of his friend Danny's head literally exploding from the high powered round that took his life. He had quickly returned fire and the high man had moved out of sight but he knew the sniper was still up there and that made him very nervous. Everything about this job was fragged up, but when Carletti said go you went or suffered the consequences. His head whipped around trying to track the small sound behind him and his eyes widened as an air elemental formed to his right. He didn't even have time to scream before the air in his lungs was sucked out. His vision grayed out and he slid to the floor desperately trying to catch his breath. His last thought was that he should have run as soon as he knew they were facing the Seventh.

Carletti glanced up as a muzzle flash caught his attention. He knew he had to get the fucker up on the catwalk. More than likely it was their sniper Falcon, and he was cutting Louis's men down with frightening accuracy. Carletti waited until he shifted position again and fired as he passed into view. The round knocked the sniper back over the rail and he fell, hands reaching vainly for a hold. He landed with a loud crash on a pallet of crates. Carletti watched for a few moments but there was no movement from the body and when a slow trickle of blood ran over the edge of the crate he grinned in satisfaction. One down.

Ezra smirked as he cast his illusion, from the shadows flowed a pack of rat terriers yapping their fool heads off. The swarm of rats took one look at them and disappeared back into the warehouse with the pack hot on their heels. Bert snarled in frustration then staggered back as a stun bolt slammed through his shields. He lost his hold on Billy, and the child dropped to the floor. Ezra drew his Predator and fired two rapid shots. Bert fell back against the wall and stared in shock at the holes in his shirt. He looked back up at Ezra and slid down the wall leaving a smear of blood as he collapsed. The fox shaman stepped forward and hoisted Billy up in his arms. He grinned down at the dying rat shaman and flipped him the bird, then turned and melted into the darkness.

Ezra paused in the shadows and carefully set Billy down. "Lobo, I have the boy. Shaman is down"

"Hooah. Get clear, Ace. Alright, boys, let's wrap this up and move out. Falcon, can you give us a clear path?" 

Lobo stared up at the catwalk in suspicion when there was no answer. "Falcon? Report." He waited a moment more then moved out heading toward the snipers last known location. "Ferret, find Falcon." 

"Hooah, Lobo." JD sent his hover drone up the back wall toward the high point and took a look around. He spotted the sniper's unmoving body down below. "Lobo! Falcon is down!"

Lobo chuckled softly when Falcon finally replied. "The sniper you have dialed, Falcon, is no longer in service in area code catwalk. Please check the number and try bleeding on the ground below. Thank you, and have a nice day." He hurried toward the palette JD's drone hovered over. A soft groan greeted him as he climbed up beside Vin.

"Easy cowboy. I got ya." Chris crouched next to Vin and eased him onto his back so he could check the damage. "DT, we need you ASAP." He ducked when a round cracked the wood next to his ear. "Shit! Under fire!" He threw himself down and covered Vin with his body hoping his armored jacket would protect them both.

"Damn it! Get off me, Lobo! Get yer fool head down 'fore you get it shot off ya, stupid idget!"

Chris jerked as a round hit him low in the hip. "Fuck, we're sitting ducks up here," he groaned. Another round hit the wood next to his head and he flinched as splinters embedded in his face. He rolled toward the back of the stack taking Vin with him. "Hang on! This is gonna hurt." he ground out as he went over the edge. He twisted in midair so that he landed flat on his back with Vin on top. Chris lay still for a moment trying to see past the stars. He grinned at the heavy, staccato beat of JD's drones spraying the enemy's position with automatic fire. A cut off scream let him know that one more of Carletti's soldiers was down. He rolled over putting Vin behind him as the sound of running footsteps moved toward them. He trained his weapon down the aisle waiting for the target to come into view then dropped it as Nathan's voice came over the com. "DT coming in."

Ezra fell face first into the concrete as something slammed into his back. He rolled frantically away from Billy trying desperately to find a target. His eyes widened as a large figure stepped out into the aisle and aimed a SMG at him. He cast a hell blast reflexively and snarled as the man went up in a screaming pillar of fire. Ezra gasped as every breath caused white-hot pain to lance through his body. He could feel the blood trickling down his back. He reached up and broke a fetish, casting a heal spell that would allow him to complete his mission of getting the child out. The shaman gathered the boy back up and cast an invisibility spell. His head swam from the drain and he fought to stay conscious. Climbed to his feet he swayed for a moment before stumbling toward the exit.

Carletti slunk around the corner searching for a target. He eased into the shadows and studied the two figures on the ground. He grinned as he recognized Lobo and Falcon. Both seemed to be injured and he drew a bead on the kneeling leader of the Seventh. Even if he died he was determined to take the blond samurai with him. He fired then cursed as the prone figure shoved Lobo out of the line of fire taking the bullet instead. Lobo landed on his ass facing Carletti's direction. Louis shifted his aim and grunted as something slammed into his chest. The mobster swayed for a moment then went down hard. He lay on the cold floor and tried to roll over but he couldn't move. He rubbed his eyes wondering why everything was suddenly growing dim. His eyes shifted as limping footsteps approached him. A dark figure loomed over him and knelt down next to him. A gentle hand took his and he looked into steel green eyes. He struggled to speak but nothing came out except a sigh as he breathed his last.

Chris echoed the mobster's sigh as he reached down and closed Carletti's eyes. Maybe in another time and place the two could have been friends. He stood and made his way back to Vin and Nathan.

Nathan glanced up at Vin in irritation. "Sit down, ya damn fool, before you fall over!"

Vin was struggling against Nathan's restraining hand when JD's sudden shout over the com caught them all off guard. "GET OUT! Bomb!" Vin shot him a triumphant grin and tried to stand. "Told ya somethin' was wrong!" They could hear JD's drone firing elsewhere in the warehouse but didn't waste time trying to figure out where. Nathan and Chris exchanged glances, DT mutely questioning if Lobo was up to helping get Falcon to safety. Chris didn't bother with answering, just knelt down and helped Nathan pull Vin to his feet. The two men draped their injured teammate's arms over their broad shoulders and carried him to the nearest exit.

Josiah's head snapped up at the sudden command. He turned and sprinted for the exit just making it to the door when he heard a dull 'kawump' and the blast wave hit him throwing him into a stack of crates. He shook his head desperately trying to clear it. He couldn't hear anything and his vision seemed to grey in and out. He crawled away searching for a clear way out.

JD watched helplessly as the bomb detonated. He wasn't sure if the rest of his team had gotten out but he knew that Buck was in trouble. Nathan had left him in as secure a location as he could, tucked under a shelf that was in deep shadows but with the explosion everything had changed. He had to get to him and help him out. He sent his hover drone up to give him a clearer view and hopefully find a clear path that would get him to his downed brother in time. The warehouse was a mess. Debris clogged the aisles and JD could smell smoke. He knew it was only a matter of time before the warehouse turned into a raging inferno. He called his drones back to his hiding spot, and burrowed out of the surrounding avalanche of boxes and crates. The section he was in had suffered blast damage, but he had been fairly protected in his hidey-hole. Once he made his way clear he stashed his drones away in his pack and picked his way through the clogged aisles heading for Buck's last known location. "Ferret clear and heading for Stud."

"Acknowledged." Lobo's voice sounded strained but JD was thankful that at least he was alive. "Ferret, get Stud out however you can. Falcon and DT are with me, and we will meet you at the rendezvous. Prophet, Stud, report!" 

A weak voice came over the com, and JD strained to make out the words over the roaring in his ears.

"Stud here. Buried… need help." 

"On my way Stud, hang on. Prophet? Where are you?" JD was growing frantic as he was met with silence from the mage. "Prophet? Damn it, answer me!" He continued picking his way through the rubble until he finally found the area where Buck was trapped. "Shit! I'm going to need help getting him out of here. Prophet! I need you." He heaved a sigh of relief as he was finally answered.

"Here. Making my way to you now." 

"You okay?" JD held his breath waiting for the response.

"Not really, but enough to help." 

"Good enough. I'll start digging, but we're going to have to be careful or we are gonna pull this shit down on Stud's head." He stepped back and studied the precarious pile of crates and wreckage that covered his friend's hiding place. It was not going to be easy to get him out and they would have to move fast but cautiously. "Slow is smooth…"

"Smooth is fast..." Josiah replied.

Buck joined them in the final phrase. "Fast is lethal." 

JD grinned as Prophet came limping around a stack of boxes trailed by one of his earth elementals. The mage looked battered and bruised and sported a mother of a black eye but he was a tough fragger and JD was sure that he would be okay. Now they just had to get Buck out from under this mess before the fire spread to this section of the warehouse. JD slapped Josiah on the shoulder as he reached his side earning him a black look from the dwarf. "Sorry 'Siah. I'm just glad to see you."

Josiah relented as JD gave him a crestfallen look. "It's ok. Good to see you too, brother. Now let's get Buck out of there." He turned to his elemental and commanded him to go and cover Buck, protecting him from anything falling on him. The elemental disappeared into the debris, and Josiah cast a levitate spell on the largest beam that lay on the top of the pile.

It took several minutes to clear enough room to get Buck out and they were all getting nervous as smoke filtered down the aisle. At last they had an open path and Josiah levitated their fallen teammate up and over the debris field to their feet. He staggered as he set Buck down, his face going white as the drain from the constant use of his magic hit. JD instantly grabbed his arm keeping him from falling on his face. He bowed his head and rested his hands on his knees trying not to pass out.

JD patted Josiah's back. "Stim patch?"

Josiah shook his head slightly. "Give me a minute," he snapped.

Buck sighed. "Sorry, 'Siah, we don't have a minute." He indicated the approaching smoke. "We have to move now." He climbed gingerly to his feet.

Josiah grimaced. "Fine. Give me the patch."

JD dug it out of his pack and peeled open the package. He passed the patch to the mage, and watched as he applied it to his forearm. Within seconds his face flushed and he took a deep breath and JD nodded in satisfaction. They would have to move fast to escape the fire, and they couldn't do that if 'Siah passed out on them. The dwarf might be short, but he was built solid and was a heavy fragger. The last thing JD wanted to do was pack his ass out of here over his shoulder.

Josiah called his elementals and commanded them to lead their group out of the warehouse. The three men followed close behind, picking their way out. They breathed a sigh of relief as a way opened up, and clear sky appeared overhead. As they emerged from the building they could hear sirens in the distance so they lost no time in making their way to their hidden transport and climbed aboard.

JD jacked in and eased the city master out onto the road leading away from the warehouse district. He turned down an alleyway and killed the engine, and waited until the emergency vehicles went by. Once they were clear he made his way to the rendezvous where hopefully the rest of the team waited.


	8. "That which does not kill us, might not have been trying" ~ The rest of the Seventh.

Ch. 8

"That which does not kill us, might not have been trying" ~ The rest of the Seventh.

Josiah lay down on the bed with a weary sigh. His head swam from drain and he felt as limp as a rag. With so many injuries he had to spread his healing spells out so none of them were in good shape except for JD. Usually he had Ezra to help him but with the shaman still out in the field the burden fell squarely on his shoulders. Once he was done Nathan had taken over with non-magical care and the first thing he did was send the mage to bed. That he went without protest was a testament to his exhaustion, but now he lay there staring at the ceiling too worried about their missing teammate to actually sleep.

M7M7M7

Chris paced up and down the room worried out of his mind. JD, Josiah and Buck had staggered in an hour before but no one had heard from Ezra since he informed them he had the boy. He wasn't answering the com or his pocket secretary.

Vin stood leaning against the wall watching Chris pace. "Cowboy, yer gonna wear a hole in the floor. 'Siah will be able to send out some watchers as soon as he wakes up ya know." The physical adept shuffled his way over to the chair and sank down with a sigh. He wrapped an arm around his middle and concentrated on breathing. Josiah and Nathan had done their best, but his injuries were extensive and all of them needed a doctor. But until Ezra was located none of them wanted to take the time, so they had made do with what care their mage and medic could provide.

"Where the hell is he, Vin?" Chris ran his hand through his hair for what was probably the hundredth time in the past few minutes. It stuck up and, under normal circumstances, Vin would be amused at the sight of their fearless leader appearing so unkempt. But this was anything but normal and he too was worried about their missing teammate and the boy. He knew Ezra had been injured but to what extent was anybody's guess.

Vin started to answer, but was interrupted when JD bustled in the room and shoved his pocket secretary at Chris. "Lobo, you need to hear this."

Chris took it and listened to the message. ' Ferret. Have found a place to hole up for awhile. The boy is fine but I am injured and can't continue for the nonce. Will make our way there soonest. Tell Lobo.'

Very calmly Chris looked at Vin and JD. "I am going to fucking kill him."

Vin snorted. "Gotta find him first."

M7M7M7

Ezra groaned as he turned onto his side and sat up. His back felt tight and hot and he was concerned that he might be developing a fever. There was too much riding on staying functional at the moment. With everything that had happened Billy was depending on him for protection.

He was seriously pissed that the boy had been put through such an ordeal. When Billy had awakened and saw he was with yet another unfamiliar face he had burst into tears. It had taken Ezra almost an hour to calm and convince the child that he was at last in safe hands and would soon be reunited with his mother and grandfather. After Billy's meltdown he had been so worn out he had fallen asleep clinging to the shaman as if he was the last safe haven in the world. He was still curled up in Ezra's arms sucking on his thumb. Ezra frowned. He was too old for such a thing and the reaction was a telling sign of his fragile mental state. He knew he had to get the child back to the team but his injuries made moving difficult and he wasn't sure he could protect the boy in this condition.

For the moment they were safe, but with all the activity of emergency personnel in the area, an extraction would put the others in danger of being picked up by Lonestar. He pulled out his pocket secretary and sent a short message letting JD know his status. The decker would let the others know he and the child were safe and would be in as soon as it was safe to move again.

That done he eased off his jacket and wrapped it around Billy. He shifted the boy off his lap and settled him into a corner out of the way. Luckily there was just enough room in their cubby to draw out the circle he would need when he attempted to heal himself enough to keep from going into shock. He called a watcher spirit and asked it to keep an eye out for any intruders and sent it off on its task. Then he dug into his pouch and pulled out a stick of chalk. He carefully inscribed a circle on the concrete floor making sure there were no gaps. As magic circles went it was crude and inelegant but it should be sufficient for a bit of healing. Healing wasn't his forte, hence the need for a formal circle. He snorted sardonically entirely cognizant of the irony of calling a chalk outline formal. No, illusion and misdirection was what he excelled at but all he really needed was to close his wounds and gain enough strength to get himself and the boy to safety. Then he could collapse and let DT take care of him.

He settled down in the middle of the circle, sitting cross-legged with his hands resting on his knees and closed his eyes. He twisted his perception in that special way that let him see into the astral and opened his eyes. Glowing strands of light shone with a brilliance that was almost blinding. In the corner Billy slept, his aura muddied with pain and suffering. He sighed; the poor child was not going to have an easy time of it for the foreseeable future. But there was nothing he could do for the boy so he turned his attention on his own condition.

The shining suit of light that housed his spirit was tattered and torn, with huge rents where phantom claws had torn it and smoking holes where bullets had impacted his meat body. He snarled at the damage. Normally his preferred connection with magic was through dance, but with the limited space and the beating he had taken that was not an option. Instead he hummed a tune and danced with his hands, gathering up the strands of light and weaving them into a more cohesive whole.

Once as a child he had watched his tante Elizabeth tatting, forming a delicate lace pillow cover and he found himself using the same motions, twisting and twining the threads, drawing the wounds closed and sealing the holes not unlike darning a sock. At last the suit was done, the last gap pulled shut. It wasn't elegant, it wasn't pretty but it would do until he could find medical attention. He relaxed his grip on his perception and slid back into the normal world with a heartfelt sigh. Exhaustion overwhelmed him and he collapsed, asleep before he could even move out of the circle.

M7M7M7

"JD? Are you up for some surveillance?" Chris gave their youngest member a glance that told him he better be honest as to his condition or his leader would likely kick his ass.

JD nodded. "Yeah, Chris. I caught a little sleep and I'm five by five." He headed out, but paused to shoot a look over his shoulder. "Boss? You should get some sleep too. I'll wake you when the area is clear and we can head out." Then he was out the door before Chris could reply.

Chris snorted. "Damn pushy kid." But he knew the decker was right. He was running on adrenaline and sheer stubborn will at this point. Josiah's heal spell had been just enough to close his wounds, not really heal them. Time would have to take care of that.

M7M7M7

JD settled into his chair and powered up his hover drone. He ran a quick diagnostic and sent it out to scan the area around the decimated warehouse. He hovered at a discreet distance watching the activity. Lonestar officers and firefighters crawled the wreckage looking for survivors of the fire. Off to one side the coroner's van sat waiting as they brought out the bodies. Josiah would be pleased to know that with all the running water the magical traces should have been obliterated. JD wasn't really sure how that worked and when he asked, 'Siah had gone off on this rambling explanation on magical theory that had left him glassy-eyed after the first few minutes. Ezra had just rolled his eyes and muttered to JD to not worry about it. Why it worked wasn't what mattered, just know it did and go on.

He set his drone on high surveillance and searched for any signs of their missing Fox shaman and the boy he had rescued. There were plenty of furtive movements throughout the zone but nothing to indicate they were anything but native residences attracted by the activity of the emergency personnel. Even in this day and age of advanced paranoia any disaster drew its fair share of looky-lous.

M7M7M7

The next time Ezra woke he knew he was in serious trouble. He alternately shook from cold and then there would be a flash of heat that made him feel like he was standing in a bonfire. His back was awash with agony and the claw marks from what little he could see out of the corner of his eye were red and inflamed. Fucking rat shamans and their fucking diseases… he wished he could purge the world of all rodents.

Billy sat in his corner, still draped in Ezra's armored duster. The child watched him solemnly, a question in his blue eyes. He cleared his throat. "You okay, Mr. Ace?"

Ezra smiled at him. Having a firm policy to never lie to children he shook his head. "No, Billy, I'm not, so I'm going to need your help. Can you do that?" He was pleased that the boy took the time to really think before he nodded.

"What'd you need me to do?" He scooted closer to sit beside the shaman and pressed a hand against his forehead. "Wow, you're really hot. Momma says when you have a fever you have to drink water." He paused then added with an aggrieved tone. "Lots of water."

Ezra chuckled. "My mom did too," he shared. "What I need is for you to help me walk. We need to go meet my friends so we can get you back to your mom and your grandpa."

Billy considered that and looked at the shaman's larger form uncertainly. Eventually desire for home outweighed his apprehension and he nodded his blond head vigorously. "Yeah, I can do that." He stood up and offered Ezra his hand.

M7M7M7

JD was still flying high surveillance when he spotted the shaman break cover. He and the boy had holed up in what looked to be an old gas station. He whooped for joy and sent the drone into a dive stopping it a few feet in front of the duo. Billy looked apprehensive but Ezra took one look at the painting of a Ferret on the side and broke out into a relieved grin.

"Good to see ya, Ace. Hang tight there and we'll come get you."

That mechanical voice had never sounded sweeter to Ezra's ears. "That we will, Ferret. Am I to take it that our illustrious band of hooligans made it out of yon death trap intact?"

"Course." There was a snort that some how made it past the sound synthesizer and the shaman knew JD was laughing. "Hell, Ace. You don't look so good though.

Ezra frowned. "No, I would not say that my condition is acceptable but I'm sure that DT will be sure to hover until I am back to full health. Mayhap you should return and inform our compatriots of our whereabouts?"

The drone bobbed in place, mimicking a nod. "On our way."

He grinned and herded his charge back into the gas station to await the arrival of his team.

M7M7M7

While JD collected their stray lambs, Nathan bustled around one of the spare rooms setting up a makeshift medical ward. He set out the medical supplies he would need and when at last he had everything arranged he stood tapping his chin while he made sure he hadn't forgotten anything.

When they brought Ezra in he took one look and knew he would need more than Nathan could give him. The fox shaman was fevered and bordered on delirium. This was beyond his skills. He sent JD to put in a call to a street doc of their acquaintance. When JD came back he let Nathan know that Dr. Marjorie Potter, better known on the street as Potshot had agreed to come over and treat the team as soon as her shift in the local clinic was done. Nathan heaved a sigh of relief. She was a great doctor and very discreet.

He settled Ezra into bed and set up an IV, and then he turned his attention to Billy. The little boy hovered over his new friend biting his lip in worry. Physically, other than a few bruises and scrapes, the child looked fine but the signs of emotional trauma were clear. His eyes were haunted, he clung to Ezra's hand like it was the only thing keeping him from a complete meltdown, and he flinched when anyone moved too suddenly. In short the boy was as much a mess as Ezra was.

"Billy?" Nathan squatted down to put himself on the same level as the boy and waited patiently for his attention. Once the child turned wary eyes on him, he went on. "My name is DT. Will you let me take a look at those bruises? I have some medicine that will make them feel better." He kept a pleasant expression on his face even as Billy edged further behind Ezra, putting the shaman firmly between himself and the medic. "It's ok if you don't want me to."

Billy looked down at the ground and mutely shook his head.

Nathan sighed. "Okay, but if you change your mind you let me know. All right?"

M7M7M7

An hour later Potshot bustled in and promptly kicked everyone out of the room except for DT. Billy kicked up a fuss, but she silenced him by sitting down and calmly explaining that what she had to do was going to help Ezra but it would be very icky and he should go with Vin to get some ice cream. At the word ice cream the boy had perked up, hesitantly put his hand into Vin's and left the room without any more argument.

She approached the bed and shook her head. "Damn it, Ace! What have I told you before about getting hurt?"

"It's not the way to pick up women?" He gave her a weak grin and she burst into laughter.

Nathan chuckled and handed her a hypo-spray. She thanked him and suddenly the merry Potshot was replaced with the serious doctor. "Ace, no way around it. This is gonna suck." She pressed the hypo-spray to his neck and waited until he was out before getting started on cleaning out the inflamed wounds.

Once she was done with Ezra and he was resting she treated the rest of the team and Billy. She came out of the room and inclined her head to Chris silently requesting a word. He led her to their conference room and sank down in a chair. Her expression told him he would more than likely not be happy with her assessment of the boy's condition.

"Lobo, I don't know what happened to that child and in the interest of plausible deniability I don't want to know but he is severely traumatized."

"Not our doing."

She smacked his hand. "Drek! You think I don't know that? Hell Lobo, if I thought you lot had anything to do hurting that poor baby I would kill you myself."

Chris grinned at the diminutive doctor. She might be tiny but she was feisty and somehow he didn't doubt that she would do just that. In the Army he had learned there are four sets of folks you never want to piss off… the cooks, the supply sergeants, the payroll master and above all the medics.

"Regardless of who is at fault," she continued. "The child is going to need extensive therapy. Inform his guardians, and if they need referrals I would be happy to provide them."

"I'll tell them." He handed her a cred stick. "Thank you as always. Do you need Ferret to take you home?"

She shook her head. "Nah, I have my car." She stood and brushed a kiss on his cheek. "Take care, omae. You boys are my favorite patients."

He blushed as she waltzed out the door with a smile.

M7M7M7

Mary paced back and forth across the library anxiously waiting the arrival of Owen and her son. The last few weeks had been nerve wracking and these last few hours since they had heard from the team of Shadowrunners had been the worst. She had broken down into sobs of relief and had to hand the conversation over to her father-in-law. Owen spoke with their leader and made arrangements to pick Billy up. When he ended the call he informed her that she would have to wait at the house for his return. She had argued vehemently to go with him, but the judge had been firm in his refusal and at last simply glared her into silence. Whatever reason he had to leave her behind was enough that he was willing to endure her wrath and subsequent week of sulking. At last she had given in although she continued to mutter under her breath even as he climbed into the car and left. Now she walked off her anxiety and waited impatiently for them to get home. When she saw the car enter the drive she flew down the stairs and out the front door. She caught her boy up in her arms clinging to him in desperate relief. She looked up and gave a start of surprise. She hadn't expected to see the leader of the team they had hired but there he stood and watched their reunion indulgently. Lobo smiled at her, a twinkle in his steel green eyes. She stood and approached the man holding out her hand. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome, Ms. Johnson. You have a fine boy."

Mary smiled down at Billy. "I do indeed."

Billy smiled at his mother and then looked at Chris. "Thank you, Mr. Lobo, for bringing me home to Momma and Grandpa. And please tell Mr. Ace thank you for helping me and Mr. Falcon for the ice cream."

Chris laughed as he squatted down and shook his hand. "You're welcome, Billy, and I will be sure to tell the others."

While Mary took Billy to get something to eat, the judge invited Chris to his library for a final report on what they had found out.

Chris sat forward in his chair and stared at the judge gravely. "I won't lie to you sir. It's bad. The man behind all this is Paulo D'Agostino." He nodded as Owen blanched. "I see you understand."

"I do. I put his son away for murder."

Chris frowned. "That would do it. He isn't known for forgetting something like that, sir. You should get bodyguards."

Owen nodded and looked at Chris speculatively. "Are you and your team…" he stopped as Chris shook his head.

"No sir, we are a high threat response team. You need someone full time. I do have a suggestion though. I know two good men who need the work. Their names are Hunter and Archangel. Tell them Lobo sent you."

M7M7M7

JD sat on the chair beside Ezra's bed reading to him. The shaman was listening with rapt attention as he recounted the Knight's Tale from Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. Chris stopped in the doorway and listened for a moment. The two men were so caught up in the story they never even noticed him standing there. He smiled and moved on to the living room where the rest of the team was engaged in a lively poker game.

Buck threw a handful of popcorn at Vin, who was chuckling as he racked in the pot. "Damn it ,Vin, I swear you've been taking lesson from Ezra behind our backs."

Vin smirked and just dealt out the next hand. He grinned a welcome at Chris as he sat down and threw his money in the pot. "Deal me in, boys."


	9. "Beware that you do not lose the substance by grasping at the shadow. ~ Street Proverb

Epilogue …..

Beware that you do not lose the substance by grasping at the shadow. ~ Street Proverb

The office was bright and sunny, but so filled with an aura of menace that it felt dim and cold. Fagetti waited nervously to talk to the only man he had ever met that scared him. The secretary disdainfully ignored him, her fingers pounding out a staccato beat on the keyboard of her deck as she typed.

Two hours prior she had haughtily informed him that Mr. D'Agostino was in a meeting, and that he was to wait until summoned. He spent the time going over his report in his mind, and hopefully the don would agree that he had had no choice in his actions to blow the warehouse and make his escape. When Carletti went down, he and Joey had been the only two left on their team. He set the bomb, and then a drone cut Joey down before his eyes. He activated his emergency spell lock at that point, and the invisibility spell had taken effect just in time for him to avoid detection by the enemy rigger. It had been a very close call, but he had gotten out to bring his report to his patron.

Another two hours passed, and his nervousness subsided. If Mr. D'Agostino intended the long wait to throw him off his guard, he had miscalculated. As a sniper he was used to patiently waiting for the perfect shot, and the longer he sat there, the more focused and calm he became. At last the secretary jacked out and motioned him toward the office. He stood and walked through the door. He stopped five paces into the room and waited.

"Mr. Fagetti. I am most displeased by this turn of events. I send your team out with a simple task to retrieve a small boy, and not only do you not return with the child, but without your team as well. Do you have an explanation for this failure?"

"Yes, sir. It seems the judge hired the Seventh to rescue the boy."

"I see. I trust you have plans to rectify the situation." It was clear from his tone that this was not a question.

"Yes, sir." Fagetti shifted nervously.

"Good. See to it Mr. Fagetti." D'Agostino waved his hand, dismissing the hit man.

Fagetti turned and left the room, wondering what the hell he had just gotten himself into.

M7M7M7

As the Seventh relaxed, content with just enjoying one another's company after another risky run that could have ended with a broken team, Fagetti observed from a safe distance. The orders were clear: them or him, and he had every intention of making sure it was them...

~ finis…. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is dedicated to Alex and Mary who have been with me every keystroke. They have encouraged, cajoled and coaxed me along every step of the way.
> 
> First I would like to thank my beta readers, Alex, Mary, Zoe, Patricia, Jess, Lily, Jennifer, Kim and Christy, for their unfailing encouragement and help. Ladies, without you, this story would never see the light of day.
> 
> This story is copyright of the author. Shadowrun is a Registered Trademark of FASA Corporation. All Rights Reserved. Used without permission. Any use of FASA Corporation's copyrighted material or trademarks in this file should not be viewed as a challenge to those copyrights or trademarks.
> 
> The Magnificent Seven are owned by the alphabet people. I am not sure which ones. But whoever they are, they can't be trusted with them, so I snuck them out the back door to my playground where we are having a delightful time. So there! :P


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